aureliqs

[aureliqs]

Loved this <3

summer is for lovers

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ✩ 10k words

summary: on your hunt for a new flatmate you come across Remus. Lovely, handsome Remus. Over the summer months you slowly grow closer to each other.

cw; vague smut (not detailed) but still 18+, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, tiny bit of angst, miscommunication, both reader and remus are a little emotionally constipated.

✩ May ✩

The harsh glow of your laptop screen, paired with the dwindling list of options, is giving you a headache. The pain pulses behind tired eyes, you’re exhausted. Landlords are pricks. The notice came a few weeks ago: your tiny flat, with its damp-stained walls (despite your investment in a fancy dehumidifier), a temperamental oven, and heating that barely registers in winter, is about to cost far more than you can afford. It’s barely worth what you pay now.

It turns out that most places in your price range are even worse than this, you must've seen upwards of twenty flats. So you’ve resigned yourself to looking for someone, anyone in need of a flatmate. Something entirely out of your comfort zone. A quiet, lonely girl by nature the idea of living with a stranger is alien and uncomfortable. But what other choices do you have?

There's a listing that seems like a good fit. Close to your work in a nice area, walking distance from a Tesco and it’s seemingly a good size. The only thing that puts you off is the fact it's a man, similar in age to you, advertising for a flatmate.

You don’t love the idea. But you’re running out of time. So you grab your phone and hover over the keypad, your mind racing while your fingers tremble as they type in the number.

Each ring after you press call makes your skin crawl with second thoughts. Still, you don’t hang up. And just when you’re about to, he answers. His voice makes you jump.

“Hello?” It’s low and calm.

“Hi,” you manage, your voice thinner than you’d like. At least he sounds nice, you think. “I, um… I saw your ad for a flatmate and I was wondering if you're still looking?”

“Yes–yeah,” he replies, sounding almost relieved. “You’re welcome to come by, have a look around? See how it feels?”

“That would be great, actually,” you say, breathing out slowly. “Would this afternoon work? Or whenever suits you.”

“This afternoon is perfect.”

You confirm the address and end the call, only then realising that you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours. Still, something about the tone of his voice settles the panic in your chest. It’s probably foolish, but for now, it’s enough.

-

The tube ride over is a blur. You're tucked into a corner seat, fingers clenched tight around the handle of your bag, knees bouncing in spite of your best efforts to seem composed. The whole journey, you’re rehearsing what you might say. Hi, I’m here about the flat. Too stiff. Nice to meet you, thanks for having me. Weirdly formal. Please let me live here, I’m very quiet and I won’t use your milk. Pathetic.

The closer you get, the more you regret not backing out. Your stomach’s knotted, heart thudding. It doesn’t help that the sky’s overcast, a flat grey pressing down like it might rain at any moment. You find the building easily – it’s a narrow brick townhouse with peeling paint around the windows but an otherwise respectable facade. Not too posh, not too grotty.

You buzz the number he gave you. A beat, and then the door unlocks with a clunk.

You’re greeted at the top of a narrow stairwell. The man from the listing is already waiting at the threshold of the flat, leaning lightly on the doorframe.

You freeze.

He’s beautiful.

Not in a clean, shiny way like the men in ads. No, he’s something quieter, warm brown eyes, framed by tired lashes and shadows that suggest long nights. His jumper hangs loose on a tall frame, sleeves pushed up to his forearms. There’s a scar that cuts across the bridge of his nose – thin, pale, old – but it fits his face. You’re staring.

He shifts, and you realise you're just standing there like a lemon.

“Hi,” you manage. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He smiles. “I’m Remus.”

You nod like that’s normal, like his voice isn’t curling around you in a way that makes your breath catch. Remus. You tuck the name away for safekeeping.

He steps aside to let you in. “Come on, I’ll show you around. It’s not Buckingham Palace or anything, but it’s solid.”

The flat is surprisingly nice. Wooden floors, worn but clean, a big window in the living room that lets in more light than you’d expected. There are bookshelves and a threadbare sofa that looks deeply comfortable. The kitchen is small but tidy, and he opens a cupboard to show you what would be “your half”.

“And the bathroom’s through here–no mould, promise,” he says, glancing at you over his shoulder with a grin that’s too charming to be fair. “And I don’t take forever in the mornings.”

You follow, nodding, your voice still lodged somewhere near your collarbone. “You, um... seem very prepared.”

He chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I try my best.”

You breathe in through your nose, trying to summon enough courage to sound like a normal person. “Well,” you say, your voice higher than usual, “as long as you don’t kill me in my sleep, I think we should be fine.”

The words are barely out before you regret them. Why would you say that? You flush, gaze snapping to the floor. But then—

Remus laughs.

Not just a polite huff, either. A real, warm laugh that starts low in his chest and melts into something softer.

You blink, stunned.

“Fair enough,” he says, still smiling. “I promise not to kill you. I make a mean cup of tea, though. That help balance it out?”

You nod, trying to hide the way your mouth twitches. “Yeah. That might do it.”

-

Living with Remus is fine, better than you expected actually. You’ve found him to be a perfectly amenable flatmate and his claims were true, he doesn't take forever in the mornings and he does make lovely cups of tea. 

Still, you find yourself hiding away in your bedroom most of the time, listening for when he vacates the living room and kitchen before making some quick food to eat and retreating back. He spends a lot of his time sitting at the dining table working on his manuscript and you'd hate to disturb him.

It's no fault of his that you hide away, you dont think you’ve met a nicer, more gentle boy in your life. It’s more like, you're so worried about imposing on his space and routine, being an annoyance that you avoid him.

So, when you hear the sound of his bedroom door shutting you make a break for the kitchen, stomach rumbling.  

You rummage through the fridge, the cold light humming against your skin, illuminating a disappointingly bare shelf. Half a tub of hummus, a sad-looking cucumber, and a block of cheddar that’s luckily mould free. You sigh and close the door with your hip, already drafting a mental shopping list.

Tomorrow, definitely. You’ll go tomorrow.

For now, you settle on a sandwich – cheese and cucumber. The bread’s from the freezer, so you wedge two slices apart and drop them into the toaster, rubbing sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand while you wait. The flat is quiet, save for the low tick of the kitchen clock and the mechanical whirr of the toaster heating up. It’s peaceful like this, when it’s just you and the hum of appliances. You suppose it's always peaceful really though, Remus isn’t very loud.

You’re halfway through slicing the cucumber when you hear it: the soft creak of a door down the hall. Footsteps. Then Remus appears, yawning into the sleeve of his jumper, his hair mussed like he’d been lying down.

“Oh–I’m sorry,” you blurt, stepping back from the counter instinctively, knife still in hand. “I didn’t mean to take over the kitchen.”

He blinks, confused for a half-second before smiling. “You’re fine,” he says gently. “Just need to get in there–” he nods at the cupboard above your head.

You quickly sidestep, hugging the counter as he reaches past you. As he opens the cupboard, his fingers brush your shoulder in passing, a light, friendly touch. You flinch, just barely, but he either doesn’t notice or chooses not to mention it.

From the shelf, he pulls down a small box full of blister packets of painkillers, the label worn from use. He moves to the sink, filling a glass with water as you return to your sandwich-making, quieter now. More self-conscious.

“I, um–didn’t mean to interrupt your rest,” you offer, hoping it doesn’t sound too awkward.

Remus looks over his shoulder at you, then downs the tablets with a quick gulp. “You live here too,” he says easily, setting the glass in the sink. “You don’t have to apologise for being in the kitchen.”

You look at him, a little surprised by the softness in his voice.

“Still,” you murmur, pressing the sandwich together, “you’ve got your routines. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“You’re not,” he says, and smiles. It's a little crooked, a little tired. “Seriously. Come in here whenever you want. Cook something that stinks. Use the last teabag. The whole kitchen is yours too.”

Your eyes lift to meet his, and there’s something about the way he says it, like he means it, that makes your throat go tight.

“Oh,” you say softly. “Okay.”

Remus excuses himself with a quiet smile and a muttered, “Back in a bit,” before padding back down the hallway.

You catch it just as he turns: a slight shift in his gait. Barely noticeable, the way his weight tips unevenly between steps, like one side of his body isn’t quite cooperating with the other. It slows him, just slightly. Enough that your brows draw together before you even realise you're staring.

You stand in the kitchen for a long moment, sandwich forgotten in your hand. It’s not like you to pry. You hate when people ask about things you haven’t offered up willingly – hate the sharp, intrusive edge of what’s wrong with you? 

You take your sandwich to the little dining table where his laptop still sits closed, charger curled beside it. The seat across from you remains warm from where he’d been earlier. You chew in silence, mind gnawing at the image of him walking away with that faint limp. He hadn’t mentioned anything. No sign of injury.

Your chest prickles with quiet unease. Maybe it’s not your place. Maybe he doesn’t want questions.

The sandwich is half-finished when he reappears, this time in fresh pyjama bottoms and a different jumper, a little looser in the sleeves. He walks slower than usual, and now that you’re looking for it, the limp is unmistakable. It’s subtle but deliberate, a kind of favouring of one leg over the other. You feel that pinch again, behind your ribs.

Remus notices your eyes on him, and he offers you a faint smile, tired but open.

“Sorry,” he says, lowering himself gently into the chair opposite you with the kind of care that makes your heart ache. “Was hoping the tablets would kick in faster.”

Your voice is quiet when you speak. “Are you okay?”

He glances up at you, blinking like he hadn’t expected the question. For a moment you think he might brush it off, toss out some polite, yeah, all good lie. But then his expression softens. Honest.

“I will be,” he says. Then he hesitates, eyes flicking down to the grain of the wooden table, fingers brushing over a faint coffee ring like it might help ground him. “It’s just a flare-up. Happens sometimes.”

You nod slowly, waiting. Letting him lead.

“My joints,” he says eventually, voice low but calm. “They’ve been wrecked for years. Doesn’t usually act up like this, but sometimes–weather, overdoing it, not sleeping right–it just hits harder.” He gestures vaguely toward his leg, then his shoulder. “Today’s one of those days.”

You don’t say anything at first. Not because you don’t know what to say, but because your first instinct, that sounds awful, I’m sorry, feels both too much and not enough. You don’t think he’d want the sympathy of it anyway.

Instead, you offer him your full attention. “Is there anything you need? I mean, anything I can do?”

Remus looks at you, properly this time, and something unreadable passes behind his eyes. Gratitude, maybe. Surprise.

“No,” he says gently. “Thanks, though. Just rest, really. Try not to be on my feet more than I have to.”

You nod. Then, quieter, “I didn’t realise you were in pain.”

“I hide it well,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting in something that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Comes with practice.”

“I could make tea?”

He smiles, just barely. “Only if you make it as good as I do.”

✩ June ✩

Downpours in June always catch you off guard. In your mind, the month should be full of sun and warmth even though it never is. Shockingly, the rain does little to dampen your mood on the walk home, too excited with the knowledge that when you get into the flat, Remus will be there, probably writing, ready to talk to you and listen to your day. 

You found quite quickly, after you got more comfortable, that you and Remus have a lot in common. You like the same shows and takeaways, both reading copious amounts of books and both of you are quiet and calm a lot of the time. You think he might be your only real friend and maybe that's a bit pathetic but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Your trainers squelch faintly as you step into the building, hair sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck. Still, there’s a smile tugging at your lips. You’re soaked and half-frozen, but the thought of the flat and Remus keeps your spirits high.

You shake the worst of the water from your coat before unlocking the flat door. It swings open, the familiar creak greeting you–

–and then a sound you weren’t expecting.

Laughter. Loud, overlapping voices. And not just Remus’.

Your eyes flick up as you step into the living room and stop short.

There are people in your flat.

Three strangers are sprawled across the sofas, legs thrown over armrests, half-drunk mugs of tea and empty crisp packets scattered across the coffee table.

The girl with striking red hair and green eyes is curled into the far corner of the loveseat, gesturing with a half-eaten biscuit and grinning. Next to her, a tall, dark-haired boy is half-lounging, half-sliding off the cushions, knees spread like he owns the place. His shirt is rumpled, his hair even more so, but it works on him. On the floor, sitting cross-legged and sipping from a mug, is another man, long dark hair, an open leather jacket.

And in the middle of it all, Remus.

He’s leaned forward in his usual seat, elbow braced on his knee, a lazy sort of smile tugging at his mouth. He looks comfortable. At home. The sleeves of his jumper are pushed up, and there’s a small ink smudge on his knuckle. He lifts his head at the sound of the door and lights up when he sees you.

“Oh–hey!” he says, already standing. “You’re back.”

All at once, the three others look up. At you.

You freeze in the doorway, suddenly aware of your rain-slick hair, damp jeans, the drip of water off your coat. Your bag sags heavily at your side.

“Hi,” you manage, blinking.

Remus crosses to take your bag, entirely casual. “Didn’t think you’d be back this early. I’d have warned you.”

You shrug, trying for a smile. “The rain chased me home.”

“Let me get you a towel in a sec–uh, this is Lily, Sirius, and James.” He gestures over his shoulder, and they all wave.

Lily smiles kindly. James does a salute from the couch. Sirius raises his mug.

You nod, stepping a little further into the room, wringing your hands slightly.

Of course Remus would have friends like this, you think. People who look like they stepped out of a film set or an advert or maybe an indie band that never quite went mainstream. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume they were all built in the same beautiful factory.

Sirius leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes glinting with mischief. “So you’re the one living with Moony. Brave soul.”

James chimes in, grinning. “Yeah, seriously. Does he still snore like a bear, or has he grown out of it?”

You blink, then giggle – actually giggle – which surprises even you.

“I haven’t noticed,” you say, glancing at Remus as he hands you a towel, whose ears have gone slightly pink. “He’s actually… really great to live with.”

You miss the way he straightens slightly at that, how his expression softens. You’re too busy trying to unstick a strand of wet hair from your cheek.

“I’m just gonna–” you gesture vaguely down the hall, “–shower. Before I mildew. I’ll be back.”

You duck into the hallway with a grateful glance toward Remus, clutching the towel he pressed into your hands like a lifeline. You’re still soaked through, jeans sticking to your legs, and your skin feels clammy beneath your shirt. In the bathroom, you peel out of your wet clothes, your cheeks still warm from the shock of unexpected company.

The shower helps. Hot water pounding against your back, steam curling around your face, loosening the tension in your shoulders. You scrub quickly, methodically, trying not to think too hard. You don’t know why their presence made your chest tighten like that – maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was how pretty they all were. Maybe it was the way they all seemed to belong here.

It’s not jealousy, exactly. Just a small ache, like being on the outside of a joke you’d love to be part of.

-

Back in the living room, as the sound of the bathroom door clicks shut, a shift happens.

Sirius, who had been half-sprawled on the floor with his mug, shoots a look at Remus – slow and smug. “Mate.”

Remus doesn’t look up from where he’s fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I will.” Sirius grins, wolfish.

Lily lets out a snort, raising her brows at James. “Did you see the way he lit up when she walked in?”

James nudges Remus’s knee with his own. “It was sweet, actually. Like a dog seeing its favourite person.”

Remus groans, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re all insufferable.”

“Not denying it, though,” Lily singsongs.

“There’s nothing to deny,” Remus mutters, flushing down to his collarbones. “She’s just my flatmate.”

James grins. “Flatmate. Right.”

Lily’s voice softens just slightly, teasing but kind. “It’s okay, Remus. We like her. She seems sweet.. And clearly into you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

Remus shifts in his seat, pulling his sleeve back down like it might shield him. “She’s not. And even if she were, she deserves... more.”

Sirius tilts his head, tone quieter now. “More than what?”

Remus doesn’t answer.

The conversation lapses just in time for the soft pad of footsteps down the hallway.

-

You return with damp hair falling to your shoulders, the sleeves of your jumper pulled over your hands. The soft scent of your shampoo trails after you. You hover at the edge of the living room, unsure if you’re intruding again.

Remus looks up first, his face softening instantly. “Feel better?”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Much.”

There’s a pause – comfortable, this time – before he gestures to the seat beside him. “Come sit?”

You do.

The sofa is warm from where he’d been sitting earlier. Close, but not too close.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, turning slightly toward you. “We’ve got crisps, biscuits. Sirius tried to eat all the digestives but I fought him off–”

“I let him win,” Sirius adds from the floor.

“–or there's your leftovers in the fridge.” He continues, ignoring his friend's input.

You shake your head. “I’m okay, thank you.”

Lily leans forward, her smile easy. “So, how’s it been living with this one?” She jerks her thumb toward Remus.

You glance at him, then back to her. “Honestly? Pretty great. He’s... very considerate.”

“She’s being polite,” Remus mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’s being nice,” Lily corrects, then turns back to you. “It’s very commendable of you, I’m sure there's something about him that annoys you.”

“Charming, Lils.” Remus says with a fond eye roll.

Lily is wrong, you think, at this point in time you can't think of anything about remus that annoys you. He’s not a perfect person, obviously, but any little annoyances you have with him are forgotten quickly after they happen.

The conversation rolls on from there. They ask about your job, your favourite books, where you went to school. You end up laughing more than you have in weeks, tucked into the corner of the sofa beside Remus, your shoulder just barely brushing his arm.

By the time the clock on the wall nudges past ten, the living room has slipped into a comfortable sprawl of conversation and low laughter. Mugs have been refilled more than once, empty wrappers tucked under cushions, and Sirius has taken to stacking biscuit crumbs on James’s shoulder like a game of Jenga.

Eventually, one of them – Lily, predictably – checks the time and groans. “Alright, we’re off,” she says, pushing herself up with a dramatic sigh. “Some of us have to be adults in the morning.”

“Tragic,” Sirius mutters, already reaching for his jacket.

There’s a flurry of movement – shoes tugged on, bags slung over shoulders, mugs gathered into a clumsy stack for the kitchen. You stand too, a little uncertain, hanging back near the hallway door as the group bunches near the entrance.

Then, unexpectedly, Lily turns to you

“You coming to the pub quiz next week?” she asks, suddenly warm and familiar, like you’ve known each other longer than just a few hours. Her voice is bright but her eyes are kind, like she really means it.

You blink. “Oh. Um—”

“It’s good fun,” she says quickly. “Low-stakes. Mostly an excuse to drink.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself. “That sounds nice.”

“Perfect,” Lily beams. Then, before you can overthink it, she wraps you into a hug.

You freeze for a second. Her arms are confident and soft around you, her hair brushing your cheek. But after the initial surprise fades, you lean into it.

“See you there,” she murmurs as she pulls back, with a wink

The others say their goodbyes in overlapping waves. Sirius claps Remus on the shoulder with a dramatic flourish, James promises to text him about the weekend, and Lily gives Remus a kiss on the cheek.

Then they’re gone – the flat door swinging closed behind them with a satisfying click, their chatter already fading down the stairs.

You’re still standing in the living room when Remus comes back a few minutes later, having seen them out to the street. He exhales deeply as he toes off his shoes, running a hand through his hair.

You’re already moving, collecting empty mugs from the coffee table and straightening a blanket draped halfway to the floor.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice gentle as he returns to the room. “It’s not your mess, love.”

You glance up at him. The endearment settles warm and light in your chest. He says it so naturally you’re not sure he even notices.

“It’ll be faster if we do it together,” you reply simply, heading into the kitchen with a stack of cups.

Remus follows, quiet but not resisting. The two of you move easily in tandem – like you’ve done this before, like you’ve lived together for years instead of just a month. He wipes down the coffee table while you rinse out mugs. You clear the sofa of stray crisp bags while he tucks the blanket back into shape.

It’s domestic, almost absurdly so. The kind of soft, mundane routine you used to dream about without realising it.

When the last mug is tucked into the drying rack and the cushions on the sofa are more or less back in their proper places, you find yourself standing in the middle of the living room, blinking in the stillness. It’s quiet again, but a good kind of quiet.

Remus glances over from where he’s just finished folding the throw blanket across the back of the sofa. “Right,” he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Mission accomplished.”

You nod, suddenly aware of the ache settling into your limbs – the kind of tired that follows a long day and warm company.

“C’mere,” Remus says, and without really thinking, you follow as he flops down onto the sofa, sprawling into the corner he always claims. He gestures for you to join him, and you do, curling up on the opposite end. Your knees tuck beneath you, your elbow sinking into the cushion. The warmth of the evening clings to your skin, a pleasant, weighty tiredness settling in.

You let out a breath, soft. “Your friends are really nice.”

He hums in agreement, tipping his head back against the cushion to look at the ceiling. “They are.”

Then, quieter, you add, “Sorry if I was... imposing. I didn’t mean to crash your night.”

His head tilts, gaze sliding over to meet yours, brows gently pulled together. “You’d never be imposing.”

You blink at him, something tender sparking behind your ribs.

“They liked you,” he says, like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world.

You smile, small and uncertain. “That’s a relief. I’d have to start hiding away again if they didn’t.”

He huffs a soft laugh, turning more toward you, one leg tucked up beneath the other. “I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t like you.”

The room goes still for a beat.

It’s not even the words that hit you so hard, it’s the way he says them. Quietly, plainly. Like it’s not even a question. Like he believes it.

You swallow. Your fingers twist in the hem of your jumper.

“You’d be surprised,” you murmur.

Remus watches you carefully, eyes soft and steady. “No, I wouldn’t.”

You look away first, heart thudding too loud in your chest. It’s not flirtation, what he’s doing – it’s too sincere for that. It feels heavier somehow, more honest.

He shifts again, this time stretching his legs out, one foot brushing yours beneath the throw blanket. He doesn’t move it away.

You try for something lighter. “You didn’t tell me you had friends that were basically a rock band.”

He chuckles, running a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, they’re a bit much, aren’t they?”

“They’re... great,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t think I’ve ever met people that easy to talk to.”

His smile is quiet. “They’ll love that. Especially Sirius. He lives for being charming.”

“I could tell.”

Remus’s laugh is low, and it lingers. “I’m glad you stayed. You looked like you were going to bolt.”

You flush, ducking your head. “I was.”

There’s a pause.

“I get it,” he says eventually, voice softer now. “Crowds. Strangers. It’s a lot sometimes.”

You nod. “It’s not that I didn’t want to be there. I just… didn’t think I’d belong.”

Remus’s gaze sharpens slightly, something almost fierce behind his tired eyes. “You do. You absolutely do.”

The words land between you, sure and solid. You feel them take root within you.

You glance over, meeting his eyes. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t look away. “Anytime.”

Your foot is still touching his under the blanket. You don’t move it.

The telly is dark, the flat dim except for the soft glow of the kitchen light and the little lamp in the corner. Everything feels slow. Settled. The way conversations stretch late into the evening when neither person wants to be the one to end it.

Eventually, you yawn. An embarrassingly large one that catches you off guard.

Remus smiles. “Go to bed.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” you ask, though your limbs are already heavy.

“I’m older,” he says, mock-stern. “I get to decide.”

“You’re not that much older,” you mumble, rising reluctantly.

As you pass him, he catches your wrist gently. Not to stop you – just a brush of fingers, warm and grounding. You pause, and he looks up at you from where he’s still curled on the sofa.

“Hey,” he says, low. “I meant it, you know. About people liking you.”

You nod, throat tight again. “I know.”

He lets go. You head to bed. And long after the door closes behind you, the warmth of his touch lingers.

✩ July ✩

“Please tell me you didn’t actually do that!” you exclaim, laughing at Sirius’ expense.

“I did,” he responds, having the decency to look ashamed, “I didn’t expect him to cry though.”

“He must’ve been a sensitive soul.” 

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, doll?” Sirius shoots back, grinning as he nudges you with his foot under the table.

You move to swat him, but he’s already leaning back, laughing like this is his favourite game. And maybe it is, because you’ve learned Sirius loves nothing more than winding people up, especially the ones he likes.

You can’t be sure when it happened but somewhere between meeting Remus’ friends and now, they became your friends too. The pub quiz is a weekly ritual for you all now. You have silly in jokes with them and you're almost at a point now where you speak with them as freely as you do Remus. 

You’re just about to fire back a quip when a familiar hand places a drink in front of you.

“Here,” Remus says softly.

Your eyes lift to find him standing beside you, the warm pub lighting casting a soft glow over his features. He sets down his own glass as well, then, without really thinking, slides into the booth beside you.

As he sits, his hand drifts up and settles between your shoulder blades, thumb brushing idly in a slow arc. It’s not the first time he’s touched you lately – little things, small and familiar. A hand on your lower back when guiding you through a crowd. Fingers brushing your knuckles when you pass him a cup of tea. But this, it still catches your breath a little.

“What have you done to get her attacking you already?” Remus asks, shooting Sirius a look that’s half amused, half exhausted.

Sirius throws his hands up. “I didn’t do anything. She’s just violent–where’s my drink?”

“You didn’t ask for anything,” Remus says with a small shrug, taking a sip of his own pint.

“I didn’t know I had to ask,” Sirius complains, scandalised. “I thought we had a system.”

“You thought wrong.”

You shake your head, trying to hide your smile as you pick up your glass. “Thank you,” you murmur to Remus, your voice quieter than before.

He turns his head toward you just slightly, expression softening, “Anytime.”

You take a sip. 

Sirius groans dramatically, flopping back in his seat. “This is blatant favouritism.”

“You’re just mad because she doesn’t threaten to hit me,” Remus replies, entirely deadpan.

“I’ll start,” you offer, raising your eyebrows at Remus in mock challenge.

He grins, a slow, crooked smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

Before you can respond, the door to the pub swings open and a gust of summer air follows James and Lily in. James is grinning, his hand causally linked with Lily’s as she glances around, eyes landing on your table.

James and Lily slide into the booth with the easy comfort of long familiarity – James immediately reaching to swipe a chip from Sirius’ plate, Lily pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she squeezes in beside you.

“We’re not late, are we?” she asks, already pulling a notepad and pen from her bag.

“Perfect timing,” Remus says, glancing towards the bar where the pub quiz host is fiddling with a mic.

“Brilliant,” James says, cracking his knuckles. “Because I’ve been revising.”

“Revising?” Sirius snorts. “Is this the A-Levels again?”

“Better,” Lily says, shooting a grin across the table. “He made me quiz him on obscure geography facts while I was straightening my hair.”

James winks. “Multitasking, babe.”

You laugh into your drink, heart buoyant with the energy around the table. You’re hemmed in by Lily on one side and Remus on the other, the heat of his thigh brushing yours beneath the table. He’s not moving away, and neither are you.

The quiz kicks off not long after – a crackly voice through the speakers announcing the rules as the pub dims the lights slightly and the host launches into the first round.

It starts out strong. Lily knows every answer in the literature round. Sirius, unsurprisingly, nails the music one, especially anything classic rock or 80s synth. James and Lily dominate the sports and politics sections, passing the pen back and forth like it's a baton in a relay.

You’re good at the random ones. The weird general knowledge stuff no one expects anyone to know. But every time you offer a hesitant guess, Remus is the first to jot it down without hesitation.

“She’s right,” he murmurs after you mutter something about which planet has the longest day. “It’s Venus.”

You glance at him. “Are you sure?”

He taps his pen, smirking. “Positive.”

And he’s right.

Remus is the dark horse of the whole night. Quietly scribbling answers during the history and science rounds, barely even hesitating. Everyone starts deferring to him, especially when it gets harder.

At one point, James throws down his pen and mutters, “Where do you keep all this stuff? Is there a little librarian in your brain with a filing cabinet or something?”

Remus shrugs, barely biting back a smile. “Just... remember things. I read a lot.”

You lean over and murmur, “You know so much weird information. It must be all the books.”

He turns to look at you, eyes crinkling. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No,” you say, grinning. “It’s kind of impressive. Annoying. But impressive.”

Remus nudges your knee with his. “Thanks, I think.”

But when the final scores are tallied, and the host calls out your team’s name as the winners, the entire table erupts.

You blink in disbelief, then burst out laughing as Sirius howls, leaping to his feet and banging on the table like a victory drum.

“We won! We actually won! We’re legends! Immortalised in pub quiz history!”

Lily rolls her eyes fondly and raises her glass. “To Remus, our walking encyclopaedia.”

They present the prize – a bottle of cheap prosecco and a £25 bar tab – and you all decide to split one more round with it. The drinks are sweeter, the laughter looser. There’s music playing now, and you find yourself talking to Lily about your favourite poetry collections while Sirius tries to convince Remus to dance.

Eventually, the evening wanes. The pub thins out, chairs scraping, the air thick with the scent of beer and summer sweat. You and Remus walk home together under a sky lit dimly by street lights and stars.

It’s warm enough now that your jacket’s slung over your arm. Your trainers scuff the pavement in easy rhythm beside his.

The walk home is slow, lazy with the warmth of the evening and the quiet hum of contentment between you. The street is dappled with soft pools of golden light. You and Remus fall into step like always, shoulder to shoulder, the occasional brush of arms sending quiet ripples through the comfortable silence.

You’re still buzzing from the night, from the win and the wine and the lingering warmth of everyone’s laughter. Every time you glance at Remus, he’s smiling, that soft, secret smile that curls at the corner of his mouth when he thinks no one’s looking.

“I still can’t believe you knew the name of the first cloned sheep,” you say, bumping your shoulder into his.

“Dolly,” he replies smugly.

“I know,” you groan. “I’m saying I can’t believe you knew that.”

Remus shrugs, casual. “It’s basic trivia.”

You huff a laugh. “It’s bizarre trivia.”

“It’s useful trivia,” he counters, giving you a sidelong glance that makes something flutter low in your belly. “Won us a bottle of cheap prosecco, didn’t it?”

You grin, and the quiet stretches between you again.

Your hands swing close again, knuckles brushing lightly. Neither of you pull away.

He shifts slightly, just enough that his fingers brush yours again, and this time, they stay. You glance down, heart in your throat, and feel his hand open, tentative but waiting.

You don’t think. You just slide your hand into his.

His fingers curl instantly around yours, warm and certain. You both keep walking, pretending it’s nothing, pretending your heart isn’t hammering so hard it hurts.

-

You step inside, the familiar hush of the flat wrapping around you both. Remus toes off his boots and hangs his jacket up, and you do the same, suddenly hyper aware of the proximity, the quiet.

He turns to you, lingering just a step closer than he needs to be. The air between you feels too full, your skin thrumming where he’s still holding your hand. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, just for a second. Barely a heartbeat.

Then he leans in.

It’s subtle at first, a shift in weight, his eyes still locked on yours. And then he’s close, close enough to kiss you.

And he almost does.

His breath ghosts over your lips, and you tilt your chin up instinctively, eyes fluttering shut—

But at the last second, he stops. Pulls back.

Just a fraction.

You blink up at him, startled and flushed and blinking hard, heart suddenly thudding in disappointment.

He opens his mouth like he wants to explain, but nothing comes out. You clear your throat, trying to save the moment, to make it feel less heavy.

“Right. Um–goodnight, then,” you murmur, stepping back and turning toward the hall.

You don’t get far.

“Wait–” he says, voice low and rough.

You freeze.

Then you feel it, his hand catching your wrist.

You turn, breath held tight in your lungs, and he’s right there again. Eyes stormy and wide, jaw tense.

“I can’t–” he starts, but the words twist out of him like they’re too slow for what he’s feeling. “I’ve wanted to–”

And then he kisses you.

It’s not gentle.

It’s urgent – a bruising, heated thing that steals the breath from your lungs and sends your hands into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tight. His mouth moves over yours like he’s been holding this back for too long, like he’s starving for it.

You gasp, just slightly, and he swallows the sound with a low groan, his hands sliding up your arms, into your hair, down your back. You’re pressed against the wall before you even realise he’s moved you, his body warm and solid against yours, his mouth insistent.

There’s no space between you anymore. Just warmth, friction, hands fumbling and mouths desperate.

You break for air only to pull back in with even more hunger, his lips on your jaw, your neck, then back to your mouth like he can’t decide what part of you he wants more.

“Remus,” you breathe against him, dizzy.

His hands settle on your waist, gripping tight like he’s anchoring himself. His forehead rests against yours for a breath, and then he murmurs, “Come with me.”

You nod.

He leads you to his room without another word, fingers still laced with yours, and when he closes the door behind you, the air changes again.

Slower, now.

More deliberate.

The urgency is still there, but it softens into something deeper, more consuming. He kisses you again, slower this time, reverent. His hands roam, mapping, remembering. Yours find the hem of his shirt, the warmth of his skin.

You don’t rush.

You undress each other like a secret being unfolded. You climb into his bed like you’ve always belonged there.

And when he finally sinks into you, it’s not rushed, not hurried.

He holds you like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s wanted this for months and is still struggling to believe it’s real.

And when you come apart beneath him, it’s with his name on your lips and your hands in his hair, and the kind of breathless clarity that tells you nothing will be the same.

-

The first thing you feel is warmth.

From the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the steady heartbeat you must have drifted off to somewhere between kisses and whispered breaths.

You’re tangled up in Remus Lupin.

The duvet is twisted around your legs, one of his arms is slung heavy and loose around your waist, and his bare chest is the perfect place to rest your cheek. His skin is warm, smooth in some places, scarred in others. You trace a lazy finger over one of the faded marks near his collarbone, remembering where your mouth had been hours earlier.

He’s still asleep, face tilted slightly toward you, lips parted just enough to show the edge of a tooth. His hair’s a mess – curling against his forehead in soft, unruly waves – and he looks younger like this. Softer. The tension that he sometimes carries, that quiet weight he doesn’t talk about, has slipped away entirely in sleep.

You smile without meaning to, letting your eyes wander across his face.

How is this real?

You stay like that for a while, not quite ready to break the spell, watching the soft flutter of his lashes, the faint rise of his chest. You feel safe, grounded, like the world could wait a little longer.

And then–

Your phone buzzes.

You blink, reach for it blindly, and when the screen lights up, your stomach drops.

“8:43 AM – New Message from Manager: Hey! Just checking you’re still coming in?”

You sit bolt upright.

“Shit–shit, shit, shit.”

Remus stirs beside you, brow furrowing slightly, but doesn’t wake. You scramble out of bed, moving towards your own bedroom trying to get ready as quickly as possible.

You do a rushed version of your morning routine in the tiny bathroom – brush teeth, splash water, a swipe of mascara and a spritz of dry shampoo that does absolutely nothing. When you return to his bedroom, Remus hasn’t moved. He’s sprawled diagonally across the bed now, hair mussed, arm half-reaching toward where you’d been.

And then you’re out the door, down the stairs, and into the rush of the day.

-

The hours drag.

Your body is at work, but your mind is still back in that bed. On the way Remus had looked at you. On the way he’d touched you. You spend the day replaying it in loops, trying not to let it show on your face.

It’s hopeless. You catch your reflection in a window around lunch and see it: the too-bright eyes, the almost-smile that keeps slipping onto your face for no reason.

-

By the time you get back to the flat, you’re not sure what to expect.

Remus is in the kitchen.

He looks normal.

Hair still messy. Wearing one of his old jumpers – the navy one with sleeves that swallow his hands – and stirring something in a pot on the stove. You hover in the doorway, your bag still slung over one shoulder.

He glances over, smiles. “Hey. How was work?”

It’s his usual voice. Easy, casual. Like it’s any other day.

You blink. “Uh... fine. Busy.”

He nods, turns back to the stove. “You want dinner? I made pasta.”

Your heart sinks a little, stupidly. “I’m not super hungry right now,” you murmur. “Thanks though.”

He doesn’t push. Just shrugs and says, “Alright,” like nothing’s strange.

But it is. You can feel it. 

The thing that bloomed between you last night, heavy and breathless and real, has been tucked neatly out of sight.

Maybe he regrets it.

Maybe it was a one-time thing.

Maybe he doesn’t want it to mean what it meant to you.

Eventually, you mumble, “I’m gonna go change,” and head down the hall before he can answer.

You close the door to your room with more force than necessary, leaning back against it with your eyes squeezed shut.

You feel foolish. You’d thought...

Well. 

You’d thought it might change things.

Instead, it feels like everything’s gone backwards.

So you do what you always do.

You hide.

You crawl under your duvet and pull your knees up to your chest, pretending you’re tired. Pretending you’re not waiting for a knock on your door that never comes.

✩ August ✩

You’ve fallen back into your routine from when you first moved in. Hiding away in your room, when Remus is in the living room. Retreating into yourself, an act of self-preservation, you think. 

You’ve escaped from your room today, Remus away at the doctors. Laying out on the sofa with a glass of cold water to combat against the heat that seeps into the flat, the hottest day of the year. You stare at the tv, staring unseeingly.

You’re halfway through the world’s most pointless reality show when the front door clicks open without warning.

You flinch slightly, half-rising off the sofa, until a familiar voice echoes from the hallway.

“Don’t get up on my account, sweetheart.”

A second later, Sirius is leaning over the back of the couch, sunglasses perched on his head and a takeaway iced coffee in each hand. He pokes you in the shoulder with one long finger, smirking.

You blink up at him, disoriented. “How did you get in?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Still have the spare. You lot never changed the locks after that one time I borrowed the toaster.”

“Stole,” you correct automatically.

He walks around the sofa and flops down beside you like he owns the place, long legs kicked out, one arm draped over the backrest behind your shoulders. He hands you one of the coffees. “Drink this. You look like you’re dying.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, finally slumping back into the sofa, gaze returning to the screen, where someone’s just burst into tears over a ruined meringue.

Sirius watches you for a beat. Then he leans in again, voice pitched low.

“So… what’s going on with you and Moony?”

You blink at him, your brain stuttering.

“What?” You shake your head. “Nothing. I mean, I have no idea. We don’t really… talk.”

Sirius clicks his tongue.

“Ah. Problem found.”

You glance over. “What?”

He gives you a look that’s both amused and just this side of exasperated. “He’s mopey. Has been for like, a couple weeks.”

You try not to let your expression betray you. “I don’t think that’s about me.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says dryly, “and I’m the Pope.”

Sirius watches you steadily, the smirk slipping off his face just a little as the silence stretches. You take a long sip of the iced coffee, letting the condensation chill your fingers, and avoid his gaze.

Finally, you exhale. It’s a slow, reluctant thing. “We slept together,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t… nothing. I mean, it didn’t feel like nothing.”

Sirius’s eyebrows shoot up, but to his credit, he doesn’t interrupt. Just takes a slow sip from his own drink and waits.

You run a hand through your hair, the heat of the day clinging to your skin like guilt. “It was after the quiz. We were walking home and then–god, it just happened. And it was… really good. But I had to go to work the next morning. And then when I came back–he didn’t bring it up.”

You swallow. The words are harder to say than you thought they’d be.

“I figured if he wasn’t talking about it… maybe it was just one of those things. A mistake, even. So I didn’t either.”

Sirius lets out a low whistle, tossing his head back against the cushions. “Bloody hell.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”

There’s a beat of silence. You focus on the way the ice is melting in your cup, the way your pulse hasn’t quite calmed down.

Sirius shifts beside you, his voice quieter now. “Look. Rem’s a smart bloke. But sometimes…” he trails off, shaking his head. “He forgets people can’t read his mind. Thinks if he doesn’t say it out loud, it’s safer. Like he can keep it from meaning too much.”

“And he’s got it in his head,” Sirius continues, nudging your knee with his own, “that you’re far too good and far too pretty for him.”

You snort. “What, so he thinks I pity fucked him? Are you serious?”

Sirius deadpans, “Unfortunately.”

“That’s–” You set your coffee down with a soft thud, sitting up straighter. “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. He’s gorgeous.”

Sirius flashes a grin, all teeth. “Preaching to the choir, babe.”

You blink at him. “Wait, you–?”

He waves a hand. “Not the point. The point is, he’s probably thinking he’s ruined everything and you’re here thinking you did. You’re both being daft.”

You sigh again, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“You think I should talk to him.”

“I think,” Sirius says, voice level now, “that you need to. Because he’s not going to. Not unless he’s sure you want him to.”

“Okay,” you say finally, softly. “Okay. I will.”

Sirius reaches over, squeezes your shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Good girl.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t push it.”

He winks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

You feel grosser and grosser as the day goes on, becoming more sweat than girl. Whether it’s because of the heat or nerves you’re not sure. An unhealthy mix of both, probably.

You’ve run through what you want to say a million times in your head.

Maybe more.

Every version sounds wrong. Too much. Too vulnerable. Not enough.

So you sit on the sofa, legs crossed, iced coffee long since gone watery, clutching a cushion to your chest like it’s armor. The fan is humming in the corner but it does nothing to move the heat pressed into the walls of the flat.

When the front door creaks open again, you sit up so fast your spine protests.

Remus walks in slowly, his posture heavy with the weight of the day. He pauses when he sees you sitting there, like he wasn’t expecting it. There’s a split second where his face flickers. He gives you a tight, polite smile. The kind you might offer a stranger you bumped into at the shops.

Then he turns wordlessly toward the hallway.

“Remus.”

You say it before you can talk yourself out of it. Your voice doesn’t shake, but it’s close.

He stops. Still facing away. One hand resting on the edge of the doorframe.

“…Yeah?”

You take a breath that doesn’t help at all. Then another.

“I did want to talk about it.”

His head tilts slightly, just enough that you see the edge of his profile. There’s a pause. Like maybe he’s hoping he misheard.

“About what?” he says finally. Neutral. Careful.

You press your palms against the cushion like it might anchor you.

“About us having sex,” you say plainly. Then, softer: “And the day after.”

He winces.

You see it even from across the room – pain flashing over his face before he schools it away again. But not fast enough. Not before it lands in your chest with a hollow thud.

“I just…” You trail off, shake your head, try again. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. Because it did. And it wasn’t nothing to me.”

He turns at that, just enough to look at you properly. His arms are crossed, but not in that closed-off way you sometimes see, more like he’s holding himself together. His brows draw in, mouth set like he’s bracing.

“I know it wasn’t nothing,” he says quietly.

You sit back a little, heart thudding so loudly you’re sure it’s rattling your ribs.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” It comes out softer than you mean it to, more hurt than accusatory. Your voice dips at the end like you’re hoping he’ll have an answer that makes it all make sense. Something that takes the last few weeks and peels the ache from them.

Remus hesitates. Then he laughs – dry, self-deprecating. Not unkind. Just tired.

“Because you didn’t say anything either.”

Your mouth opens. Closes again. You hadn’t expected that.

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, the gesture tight with nerves. “I thought I’d messed it up. I thought–I don’t know. That maybe I crossed a line. You left so quickly that morning, and then you just–disappeared. And I thought, alright, that’s fair, it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. And I didn’t want to make it harder by pushing.”

“But I didn’t disappear,” you whisper. “Or I didn't mean to, I had to go to work. You acted like nothing happened when I got home.”

He meets your eyes then. And for the first time since that night, he looks open. Vulnerable in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“Because I thought if I let myself believe it meant what I wanted it to mean,” he says, voice low, “and I was wrong… I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye again.”

You blink. “What did you want it to mean?”

There’s a beat of silence between you. The fan hums on, useless. The world waits.

Remus’s eyes are soft, almost pleading. “Everything.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He exhales like he’s been holding it for hours. Days. Weeks, maybe.

“I wanted it to mean we’re not just friends who got carried away,” he continues, stepping closer, careful. “I wanted it to mean I get to look at you in the mornings and kiss you before you leave for work. I wanted it to mean you wanted me, too. Not just that night. After.”

Your heart cracks wide open.

“I do want you,” you say, voice trembling now, but sure underneath. “I never stopped. I thought I’d imagined it–that you regretted it. That it was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” he says, quickly. Firm. “Not even close.”

You stare at him, all those weeks of doubt pooling like ink in your chest. Slowly, you set the cushion aside, like shedding a shield.

He watches you. Doesn’t move.

“I wanted to tell you,” you say, standing slowly. “I just didn’t know how.”

“You’re telling me now,” Remus says softly. “That’s enough.”

You cross the room in four steps, barefoot and shaky and brave, and then he’s in front of you, warm and real and still yours to choose.

“I missed you,” you whisper, hands coming up to rest against his chest.

His arms come around you immediately, pulling you in like he’s been waiting this whole time. His face presses into your hair, his breath warm against your ear.

“I missed you more than I know how to say.”

You lean back enough to see his face, your hands curling in the hem of his jumper.

“Then say it like this.”

And you kiss him.

This time, it’s not urgent. Not desperate. It’s steady and soft and full of all the things you didn’t say. His lips move slowly over yours, reverent. Familiar. Like a promise.

He smiles into it. And when you pull away just enough to look at him properly, you find his eyes lit up with something you’ve only seen once before.

Hope.

“You’re not getting rid of me now, you know,” you say, resting your forehead against his.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I was hoping you’d stay.”

✩ September ✩

The days stretch a little shorter now, but summer’s warmth still clings stubbornly to the air, trailing behind in the soft buzz of bees and the golden hush of late afternoons. The flat’s windows are thrown open, letting in the scent of sun-warmed pavement and the rustle of dry leaves skittering along the street below.

Remus is barefoot in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, humming something low under his breath as he chops herbs with practiced ease. The late light catches in his hair, softens his features into something dreamlike. There’s a faint breeze lifting the curtain near the sink, and the clink of glass as he pours two drinks, glancing toward the living room where you’re curled on the sofa, legs tangled with Sirius’ across the cushions.

Lily and James arrive a few minutes later, the door swinging open with a chorus of greetings and laughter. Lily’s holding a warm loaf of bread wrapped in a tea towel; James has a bottle of wine under his arm and a grin too big for his face.

“Boo! I hate you guys being happy and in love,” Sirius announces, flinging himself into a new position across the armchair.

“You love it,” you say without looking up, one hand reaching blindly for Remus’ as he passes you a glass. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he settles beside you, his arm slung across the back of the sofa, fingers brushing your shoulder in a quiet rhythm.

He hasn’t stopped touching you since that night.

It’s not overwhelming, not loud. Just soft, consistent reminders that he’s here, that you’re his, that he’s yours. A hand at the small of your back, knuckles brushing your thigh under the table, lips against your temple as he passes. Like he’s still learning how to believe it, but he’s trying every day.

Dinner is chaotic and loud, wine-stained and full of clattering cutlery and overlapping stories. Someone burns the garlic bread, Sirius knocks over a candle, and Lily accidentally flings a piece of tomato into James’ lap.

Later, when the plates are stacked and the last of the wine has been poured, Sirius puts a record on — something old and scratchy and perfect — and Lily pulls James up to dance. They sway messily in the living room, laughing, bumping into the furniture.

You’re half-tucked under Remus’ arm when Sirius offers you his hand.

“Come on, one dance. For your favourite.”

You shake your head, smiling. “No way. You’ll trip me up.”

“Probably,” Sirius concedes cheerfully. “But what a way to go.”

Remus chuckles beside you, warm and low, and you turn your face toward him instinctively. His gaze catches yours, steady and soft. Like everything else has blurred out.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll be here.”

You kiss him once — quick and fond — before letting Sirius spin you clumsily around the room, both of you laughing like children.

When the night winds down, James and Lily head off with matching yawns and promises to host next time, and Sirius dramatically declares he’s staying the night, already halfway through making the sofa into a makeshift bed despite your offers for him to sleep in your room that goes largely unused.

You and Remus retreat to his room, quiet and content. You curl into bed with the windows still open, letting the night breeze ghost across your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your shoulder, murmuring something half-asleep against your skin.

It’s nothing dramatic. Just a slow, steady settling. A feeling in your chest that hums: this is it.

masterlist <3

[aureliqs]

I absolutely loved this <3

It's nice to have a friend.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"No one loves a monster like me."

"I do."

warnings- cursing, the prank (with major changes), angst (?), my writing

13k

author's note:- i wrote this listening to taylor and lana. english is not my first language, so beware <3

"What time do you call this?"

You bit down your lips at Remus's flat tone. He looked up from his book with an expression you couldn't figure to be irritated or nonchalant.

"I'm so sorry, Remus. I got carried away with astrology," you said as you attempted to sit beside him. He quickly put his books on your seat with a loud thud. Fortunately for him, the library was empty.

"Then go and play with your stars."

"What?" you asked, a bit confused. "Aren't we supposed to study together?"

"We were. But you're late," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm only twenty minutes late," you furrowed your brows at his uncharacteristic rudeness.

He was staring at you as you glared back.

"You damaged your brain while studying Transfiguration without me, didn't you?"

You arched a brow uncomfortably, getting ready to talk again, but Remus's face softened and changed into amusement. The next thing you heard was his light laughter.

"Hilarious, prick."

"I'm a funny bloke," he chuckled as he lifted the books to grant you a seat, which you took.

"You're not really, James and Sirius are way funnier."

"Weren't you the one throwing a tantrum over their prank yesterday? You certainly weren't laughing."

"They died my hair to green! And don't act like you had no part in it."

"I only told them green is your favourite colour. Was I wrong?"

You blankly ogled his smirk.

"Green suits you."

"You know what suits you, Remus? Purple. Should I do something about it?"

To your irritation, his smirk widened. You turned your hand into a fist. "Which eye is your favourite?"

"I only have two."

"That's not an answer."

"Is there supposed to be an answer? The two are the same."

"Well then," you threw your fist at his eye, Remus raising his arm to protect himself.

"Did Sirius bribe you to hit me?"

"No, but he did offer me some galleons in exchange for your chocolate this morning."

"That was you?!"

This time it's your turn to smirk.

"Time is of the essence, Remus, we have to study." you opened a book before you, waving off Remus as he grumbled something under his breath.

You started to study together, helping each other occasionally.

It was a habit now; you two would study together every week for at least four evenings.

Remus was frustrated today; you could tell from his bouncing leg and twitching lips. But you didn't point it out; you knew he felt uncomfortable when someone coddled him. It was one of the perks of being best friends for five years.

From the first year of Hogwarts to the sixth year, you learned almost everything about Remus by heart. How he scratched the hairs on the back of his neck when deep in thought, or how he never looked up from his book while reading, even if his friends were trying to converse with him.

In return, he knew exactly what to tell you when you were overwhelmed by the studies or how to make you laugh when you were feeling like crying.

You two had always been there for each other, listening, understanding, and supporting one another through everything. You had stayed in the hospital wing all night for Remus when he broke his arm in the third year, and he had been there for you when you were burning with a fever two years ago.

There were too many incidents like these which you and Remus shared that proved the special bond between you. James, Sirius and Peter were also your friends, but with Remus, it was different; unique.

He had made you feel appreciated and loved, never let you down or never let anyone look down on you. Sometimes James and Sirius would mock you two for this affection, but that would always earn them a smack on the head from Remus.

You knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you.

Well, almost everything.

He didn't know that your affection for him was something more; It had been for quite some time now.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush because of teenage hormones or something, and it would fade away with time.

But it didn't. You grew out of 'I fancy Remus Lupin' to 'I love Remus Lupin'. Of course, you never confided in anyone about your burning infatuation, keeping it secret, burying it deep inside your heart.

The same secret that was fighting to break free from your heart's walls every time Remus smiled at you.

The same secret that was clawing from its grave to get up and fly, bleeding your heart every time Remus embraced you and called you a friend.

The same secret that prickled your eyes with tears every time you remembered that you weren't the only one keeping secrets.

He was keeping something from you, too.

You had always felt it in his eyes, glancing away when you would ask about a scar on his arm or a cut on his thumb.

The first time you fought on it was when you saw the huge scar on his face in the second year. You had worried so much that you pushed Remus's patience, and he had yelled at you. For twelve years old, it was a big hit in their friendship. You hadn't talked to each other for two weeks. In the end, Remus approached you to apologize and explained how the Marauders' prank had backfired, resulting in his scar. You had cried that day because of how much you had missed your friend. Remus hugged you tight, but you could swear you heard a sniff or two from him as well.

Remus would always say the scars on his body were because of a prank, and you would pretend to believe it.

Until this year.

You may be a Gryffindor, but you weren't stupid. You had noticed how he would disappear every full moon and "get sick." You didn't push him before because you thought maybe he needed time, but his distrust was turning the understanding in you into resentment.

It hadn't been to hard make speculations about the situation, but you wanted him to confide in you.

"Are you asleep with your eyes open?" Remus startled you, pulling your focus back to the present.

"Are you calling me a dolphin?"

"You two have a lot in common," he patted your head with his quill.

"Freakingly cute?"

"Freakingly evil."

You elbowed him but regretted it the moment he grimaced with pain.

"What's wrong?" you asked, albeit you immediately guessed another injury under his brown jumper.

He forced a smile. "You just proved my point."

"I didn't even hit you that hard!"

"You tell yourself that," Remus stood up, nodding simultaneously. "That's enough for today."

"Already? You sure you okay?" you worried a bit, standing up. "It's only been forty minutes."

"For you, lazy lady. I've been here for an hour, remember?"

"Go on, rub it in, or I won't hear the end of it until tomorrow."

You two were walking to the exit now with relaxed paces.

"Yeah, about that. I won't be able to study with you tomorrow."

You inhale a deep breath and huff it out.

Here goes nothing.

"Again?"

"Yes," his voice is rusty now.

"Why?"

"Marauders thing."

Same excuse as the last month.

You didn't say anything, giving him one more chance again.

"That's bollocks, Remus."

Remus simply curved a side of his lips to a tiny smile, almost unnoticeable to anyone. Well, anyone but you.

However, you were too irritated to mellow at his smile.

Only for one day, you didn't see him, and he had a new scar, and what a coincidence that the same day was a full moon.

"You really shouldn't curse."

"What truly happened to your arm?"

"Sirius accidentally cut it," he said for the third time that day.

"Stop lying."

Maybe you were wrong to push him like this, but you didn't care at that moment.

"I'm not lying, Y/N," he said before grabbing both his and your books and pressing them between his left arm and torso. "Let's go, we have class in ten."

When you didn't budge, his smile grew, and he stretched his free hand towards you.

"Come on, move your arse. We'll be late."

"You shouldn't curse," you said firmly, trying to look as angry as you could. You were on your limit and had no intention of backing off this time. "And I'm not coming with you."

"Why is that?" he pulled his outstretched hand back to the pocket of his trousers, wearing a soft expression, which his mocking tone contrasted with.

"You know why."

"I'm afraid I don't know why you are not coming to class."

"I will go to class, just not with you," you scowled at his nonchalance.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"And why is that?"

"Because I've decided that I'm not talking to you."

"That's not fair."

"Yes, it is," you snapped, standing before him. You waited a few minutes for something, eyes narrowed. When Remus chuckled at your annoyed expression, you walked past him, hitting him with your shoulder.

Striding to the common room's exit, you ignored Remus's call. Only after leaving his sight, you fathomed that you had left your book with him but shrugged it off. You two always sat next to each other, and Remus was too nice of a friend not to bring it back.

"Hey, angry lady." his playfully soft tone danced in your ear, making your heart flutter in your ribcage.

"Go away."

"We're headed to the same class."

"Go away from me, then."

"I'm carrying your book."

"No one asked you to," you still hadn't spared him a glance but could feel the soft smile on his lips.

"No one needed to. I'm a gentleman."

"My arse."

"What about it?"

Your head snapped in his direction. Remus was smirking at you, acting like you weren't almost about to fight ten minutes ago.

You walked into the classroom from the door Remus held open for you straight to your seat.

"Give me my book back."

"You forgot the magic word, lady," he sat next to you. "You know, the one starting with 'P'."

"Petrificius Totalus?"

"That would also work, but I had something nicer in mind. Try again?"

"Periculum."

"What would you need the flames for?"

"To burn you."

"You're so violent this morning. Hadn't had your morning coffee?"

"Just give the bloody book back."

"Now that I think about it, you've been violent for the last three days."

You groaned when the professor started the lesson.

"Don't be bitter, Y/N," he pleaded, watching you snatch your book back. He hated when you were angry at him. "I already told you the truth."

"That's rubbish, and you know that," you whispered so the professor wouldn't hear you. "We're not twelve anymore."

"You were a lot nicer when you were twelve, though."

"And a lot stupider."

"Aye. You'll hear no argument from me."

You knew he was merely attempting to lighten the mood, but he didn't realise it only made you more furious.

"Why are you keeping a secret from me?" you finally blurted out the question gnawing on your insides.

Remus's smile ebbed. He exhaled sharply before turning away from you.

"I am not keeping anything from you."

"Then you must think I am gullible because that's the only explanation for you repeating the same 'prank injuries' lie over and over again."

"That's not a lie."

"Is there a problem?"

You clenched your jaw when you heard the professor's rough voice.

"No, Professor," Remus shook his head, ending the chatter.

You didn't talk for the rest of the lesson. However, to your frustration, you couldn't help but sneak glances in his direction only to find him doing the same.

The moment the class was dismissed, you immediately got up and left the room. The last half an hour in the boring potion class made you question some things. You were at odds with yourself.

And now, in the middle of the hallway, with your books to your chest, your mind was hosting a party for questions.

Was it really about you? Maybe no.

Did Remus deserve some secrecy? Maybe yes.

Did your infatuation with your best friend get in the way of your judgement? Breaking your heart not because he had a secret he didn't want to share but because he didn't love you back? No, of course not (It did).

But you deserved his trust. At least, that was how you were feeling based on the years of friendship.

Were you wrong? Probably.

"Y/N!"

You took a deep breath and blew it out as you turned to face Remus, who quickened his pace to catch up to you. He's smiling. Again.

"What?"

"You still pissed at me?"

"Yes? No? I don't know, Remus," you shrugged and carried on walking to the Great Hall. "I don't understand why you won't share it with me. Don't you trust me?"

"I do," he drawled, and you waited for him to continue. He hesitated at first but gave up after your determination not to make a sound.

"Listen, it's not something about you. I just don't like sharing it."

"Does James know? Sirius? Peter?" you arched a brow, desperately hoping for him to say no. You watched him he open his mouth and close it without a reply.

Well, that was it.

He didn't want to tell you, and you were supposed to be okay with it.

You nodded, hurt at something you didn't want to voice.

Remus stopped you from your arm, turning you so that you would face him. His hands made their way to your sulked shoulders and caressed them back to your hands to hold them tight, sending shivers through your body.

"When the time is right, I will tell you," he said. You looked up into his brown eyes, forcing yourself not to peek at his lips. You had always loved his eyes, and his lips.

"I promise. Just trust me."

You lowered your head, closing your eyes to the pleading in his words.

"I just don't understand why you don't trust me."

Remus stepped forward, letting your head lay on his chest.

"I told you, dove. This is not about you. Truly."

You knew it too.

You knew the reason you were so angry was not Remus but your love for him.

You knew you were not resenting Remus but your own inability to suppress your feelings.

So you nodded, hugging him back.

"What do you smell?" you asked Remus, trying not to sound too eager or excited. You were hoping he couldn't hear your racing heart and couldn't see your trembling hands.

Remus inclined his head to the potion, taking in the smell the Amortentia was radiating.

One, two, tree...

He frowned, looking lost. He clenched his jaw, blinking fast. Something must be wrong.

Six, seven, eight...

He cleared his throat, locking his eyes with yours.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

Remus straightened his back, curling the side of his lips upwards awkwardly.

"What do you smell?"

You gulp, lips parting and then closing and then parting again. You weren't sure it was the right thing to tell him what you smelled from the love potion.

Parchment, coffee, melting chocolate.

Everything that reminded you of him.

"I asked you first."

You sounded taut, internally having a fight between your heart and your brain over the control of your body, mind, and soul.

You didn't know what you wanted to hear from him exactly, but what you did know was that you were praying for it to be something, anything that would remind him of you.

"It's- it's nice," he simply said.

"Mine, too."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice so low that if you weren't so close to him, you wouldn't hear him from all the chatters in the classroom.

You longed to tell him.

Tell him and get it over with. Put down the weighing affection in your shoulders, your lungs and your heart, even if it meant having it broken.

You looked up at him, biting your lower lip so hard it almost bled.

Remus waited and waited and waited for you.

"It's uhm, it's parchment... and uh,-"

"Mr Lupin, are you two done with your potions?

You quickly put a distance between you and Remus. Professor Slughorn stood by the pot, smelling the potion.

"Ah, you are. Well done, you two."

You refused to turn back to Remus, your eyes examining every student in the classroom as Remus cleaned the desk.

James Potter was grinning at Lily Evans, who, in turn, had an unreadable expression on her face. You hoped Lily had smelled James; it would make your friend foolishly happy.

It was a bit chaotic in the room; happy, angry, sad and confused faces were scattered around. A student had even managed to blow up his potion somehow.

You saw Sirius and wondered what he had smelled, but soon your thoughts took a turn when you noticed Sirius was not alone. He was muttering something to Severus Snape with a devilish grin on his face.

"You guys have another prank coming?" you asked Remus, your eyes not leaving Sirius.

You didn't see Remus flinch and almost drop the knife.

"No? Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Then Sirius must be messing with Snape for his own amusement."

Remus hummed softly.

"I love James and Sirius, but was this really necessary?"

It was cold, and you were freezing, not because you had clothed lightly but because it was seven in the morning and in the middle of winter. Remus, seated next to you, was in no better condition. All because your friends insisted you watch them fly around on a broom.

"Well, he had said we were a great support."

"Do I look like any kind of support at this moment?" your teeth were starting to chatter. You closed your eyes at Remus's chuckle, hoping, wishing and praying that you would never forget its sweet melody.

"You look anything but."

You laughed at his words, totally oblivious, his gaze lingering on your smile.

"When is even this game?"

"In two weeks, that's the only thing Pads and Prongs talk about. Where's your head at?"

"I usually tune them out. They're disturbingly loud."

James screamed loudly at Sirius; you threw an 'I told you so' glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes in return. You liked when he did that.

"Try living in the same dorm room with them."

"Must not be fun since you're carrying the scars of the battle in your body."

"And in my soul," he nodded swiftly several of times. You adored the way his brown locks messed into each other, still looking fluffy. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm sweating," you snarked, peeking at Remus. Maybe you were wrong because he definitely appeared more decent than you were. He beamed at you, sneaking in closer, his leg brushing yours.

Without further ado, he pulled his arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his chest. Your breath hitched as his scent filled your mind.

You hated how your heart reacted every time you were this close to him; a hand away to hold his hand, a breath away to kiss his lips-

"Better now?"

You pushed the image deep into your mind, heat blossoming in your chest, colouring your cheeks.

"Cheers."

The next you-don't-know-how-many minutes later, the practice was over, and the players were now descending to the ground. Remus hadn't let go of you yet, not that you wanted him to.

You watched as James and Sirius joked around, Peter joining them later on.

"Hey, lovebirds! Come down!" James yelled, his hands around his mouth.

You raised your head to see Remus frowning at them before smiling at you, which you returned shortly as you stepped out of his warm embrace.

"Who's hungry?" James asked as you two also joined them and answered before anyone else could. "I am. Let's eat."

"Evans still won't tell me what she smelled in Amortentia."

"Drop it, mate. If she wanted to tell, she would've," Sirius slapped James's back before stepping into the Great Hall before everyone.

"If you push her, she might get irritated, you know," you reasoned with James, albeit you knew it was in vain.

"With me? Impossible, I'm lovely."

"Not to her, apparently."

"Not everyone has a Moony around to cuddle, Y/N."

Peter snorted and dodged the hit from Remus's hand.

"What? James, that's not even relevant!" you hid the crimson of your checks with feigned annoyance, refusing to glance at Remus.

"It doesn't have to be relevant," he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. You shook your head, grabbed a toast and didn't see Remus arch a brow at James.

"Where's Sirius?" Peter asked, making all of you turn around.

"He was there a minute ago, was he not?" you questioned, aimed mainly at James. If there was only one person you could ask about Sirius, and he would have an answer, he was James.

Obviously, not this time because James simply shrugged.

You were jealous. You had never been jealous over Remus until now.

You knew Lily Evans was his good friend, you liked her too, and you knew Remus would never even think about her in that way.

But still, you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push you every time Lily would put her hand on Remus's hand, grazing the tiny cut lightly with her thumb. Your heart was a target to all sorts of knives when you heard Remus chuckle at Lily's words.

You couldn't help but wonder if she knew Remus's secret.

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Y/N," Sirius cut your thoughts short.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you dismissed him with a shake of your head, pulling your gaze from Remus to the potion top. "Did you add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?"

Remus had always told you that you were the girl closest to him, and it would always stay like this. But you couldn't get rid of the doubts in your mind you were so certain that were emerging because of your feelings.

"Yes, stir twice clockwise," Sirius started working on Sopophorous bean juice. "I'm talking about Moony."

"What about him?" you bit down your lip and hoped your voice didn't shake when Remus's nickname startled your train of thought. How you loved that nickname...

"Others may be oblivious but don't be ridiculous, I see how you stare at him."

You didn't know how to reply to that claim, so you kept silent but turned your eyes to the long-haired boy. He smiled at you as if an encouragement, which almost crumbled your defences. You were on the verge of giving out.

Would it be bad if there was at last a person to share your feelings with?

"So, is it a monthly 'I fancy him' situation or..?"

"Something more," you finished for him, earning a croon. Here, you had said it with no guarantee that he would keep your secret but with the hope that he would help you carry the burden.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only when you're jealous, love."

You nodded, smiling a little.

Sirius watched the way you were picking the skin around your nails.

"Hey, stop worrying. I'll tell no one."

Relief had hugged you at that moment, thankful that Sirius took your feelings lightly and didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, happy that you weren't alone anymore in this secret; you had someone capable of understanding.

"Sirius?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think he'll ever...love me back?"

He sighed, drying his hands. You felt his hands on yours, returning the gesture.

"You know Moony, he doesn't talk about feelings," you laughed bitterly, placing your head on his shoulder. "But he is a plonker if he never returns your feelings, and I'll make sure he gets a new scar if he ever hurts them."

"Thank you, Pads," you melt into his hug as you feel his arms around your waist.

"You smell of strawberries," he took a strand of your hair into his hand, sniffing it. "What shampoo are you using?"

"Stop smelling me like a dog!" you pushed him away, giggling when he gasped in fake hurt. "Focus, we still have to finish that potion."

Sirius carried on with his Sopophorous bean, and you looked around for a sloth brain.

"Did you forget the sloth brain?"

"I thought you were going to get it," Sirius shrugged, looking up. "Moony and Evans have one more. Go and grab from them."

You glanced at the pair, noticing that Remus was already staring at you. He didn't budge when you smiled at him and changed his focus back to Lily.

Red hair, green eyes, dainty freckles and graceful stature. Why did she have to be this beautiful?

You sauntered to their seat, passing near a bunch of students that were requiring the Professor's attention. Remus refused to look up to you when Lily offered you a kind smile.

"Hey, Remus, do you mind sharing an ingredient with me and Sirius?"

"You don't have it?" his tone was not kind, and his eyes were cold.

"I thought he was supposed to take it, but it turns out he thought I would take it," you mumbled real quick, still not fathoming the reason behind his coldness. "So here we are."

"You guys were pretty out of it. How do you even manage to get the job done?"

"We are doing fine," you frown. What was wrong with him?

"Yeah, I saw."

"Are you going to let us borrow the ingredient, or should I ask James and Pete?"

His gaze finally changed into something you couldn't quite name. He turned to Lily, who was trying her best not to pry.

"We won't need the spare," she consented in an instant. Remus dashed to the other side of the desk, clutching the jar and dashing back to you.

"Thank you," you mumbled as you clasped it in your hand. He merely nodded one time before carrying on with whatever he was doing.

You could swear you heard Lily whisper to him, 'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' before parting, but you ignored it.

You couldn't find Sirius when you were back, so you finished the last steps of the potion on your own. He didn't pop up when the Professor checked the work or when he dismissed the class.

"Why are you pissed at me?"

"Moony is pissed at you?" James hopped in as you made your seat next to Remus, who was busy with his meal.

"Yes–"

"I'm not."

You stared at him in disbelief and bemusement.

"You certainly are. Now tell me why."

When Remus looked at you, a smile inched his lips up though his eyes were still grumpy.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," your head sought him out, giving out in confusion. "How is he any relevant?"

You ignored James muttering, 'You really do like that word, huh?' as your eyes desperately tried to understand why Remus was being weird. But instead of an appropriate reason, all you got was a shrug.

You shook your head in dissatisfaction and stretched your arm for the pumpkin juice. Seeing your attempts, Remus's hand had already grabbed it and now was pouring the juice for you.

"Thank you," you whispered before clearing your throat. "So, we'll study together in the library again, right? Now that you're not 'angry'?"

Remus shook his head when you drew quotation marks with your fingers in the air.

"Today, yes. Not tomorrow, though."

You quelled the rising anger and heartbreak in your heart. In a trice, you twisted in your seat, facing James.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

He was taken aback by your sudden query. By the state of his full mouth and the bread crumbs around his lips, you figured out that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to you and Remus.

"Quidditch practice before breakfast?"

"In the evening, I mean."

"We're supposed to–"

"I wasn't talking to you, Remus."

Remus pursed his lips, cursing himself for not talking to James that morning. James's face crinkled in bafflement.

"I am supposed to finish my star chart with Sirius."

You nodded and glowered back at your best friend. James made a face at Remus behind your back as if asking what was going on.

"You don't take Astrology, Remus."

"I'll study with Lily tomorrow," he said, and you froze.

You were supposed to study together. You and Remus. Together. Like the way it had always been.

He wasn't supposed to study with the prettiest girl in the house. The graceful girl with a delicate smile and silky fire-kissed hair.

You didn't know when or how the familiar burn in your chest surged up, but you recognised what it was. You welcomed the acute sharpness of its thorns and the way it cut through your heart.

"Oi! Why didn't you tell me that? I could've finished the chart earlier and joined you!"

You tuned out James's protest. You wished you could tune out Remus mumbling to him, 'We decided in the potions.' too. But if there was one thing you could never turn a deaf ear to, it was Remus's voice; soft yet stern, melancholic yet hopeful. You wanted to tattoo the tune into your brain the way it was engraved into your heart.

You heard Remus call your name. You hated the way you loved your name from his lips. He had always chanted your name so gently, like an incantation, caressing your soul's most hidden-away parts.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't say no to Lily," he said apologetically.

"Yes, of course," you rose from your seat, offering Remus a smile you hoped covered the hurt behind your eyes. "I understand."

"Where you going?" he attempted to grab you by your wrist, but you were agile. You snatched your wrist away unobtrusively.

"I'm going to look for Sirius."

"Hiya, love," Sirius greeted you at the curtail step of the Grand Staircase. You had looked for him in the castle, but you stumbled on him when you finally gave up and decided to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you close to the end of the potions," you asked him, feeling a bit better now that you're out of Remus's company.

He shrugged, denying you the answer.

"You, too, Pads?" you stopped your steps, making Sirius do the same. He looked confused.

"I, too, what?"

"Somehow, I never get an answer to any of my questions these days, and it's bloody frustrating," you blurted out the grudge that had made home in you within a breath.

"Someone's getting ready to throw a strop," his mocking tone brought you to your senses. You pouted, sighing away the anger and resentment building up in your core.

"Don't sulk, love," he said as he dropped a hand on your shoulder, which impeded your movement on the stairs. "If it is any consolation, I have a problem with Snape."

"What problem?"

"You remember our last prank on him, right?" he smiled sheepishly. He continued when you nodded. "Right, so he may or may not have been trying to get back at me for it."

"So you two have been fighting like two little third-years for the last week?"

"Uh-huh," you rolled your eyes when he showed you his ridiculously white teeth. "I'm setting the ground for something big, but can't tell you, so don't ask."

"Fine."

"Your turn."

"It's silly," you cringed at the thought. Everything always made sense in your head until it was time to actually voice them.

"Good. Then we'll have a laugh. Come on, now," Sirius squeezed your arm as reassurance.

"Remus is a liar. Sometimes..." you purposely left out the once-in-a-month fact, "He stands me up, saying it's a Marauders thing-"

You held your hand up to interrupt Sirius, who was about to back up his friend.

"Don't. It is a lie. I know something is going on, and I have speculations, I'm not stupid, Sirius–"

"Never said you were."

"And it's okay, you know? We talked about it, and he told me he needed time, and I didn't argue. But now he tells me he isn't gonna study with me because he promised Lily, and I know it's an excuse because he couldn't use the 'Marauders thing' lie this time–"

"Don't forget to breathe."

"It's just...she's pretty and smart and–"

"In love with Prongs."

"You don't know that."

"No, but she will be, and you don't even need to worry about Evans. She's just a good friend of Moony."

You exhale heavily, begging for your endeavours to suppress the ache in your throat to work.

Yes, she was a good friend of Remus. But you're supposed to be his best friend.

Howbeit, more importantly, what was muddling you was the thought that Lily knew Remus's secret.

"I know, Pads. I just can't help it."

Sirius said the password to your common room and gave you the way first.

"You should talk to him, you know," he said as you threw yourself onto a sofa.

"And tell him that I'm ridiculously jealous because of his friendship with Evans, yeah?"

You smiled at Sirius's laugh. "I pity you, love."

You pitied yourself, too.

You grimaced when you felt the metallic taste of blood. Pulling your teeth from your lips, you pushed them together so the blood on them would dry.

You've been pacing around your dorm room, contemplating whether to get down to the library.

Part of you yearned for Remus's presence, while the other part wanted to avoid him forever, not ready to face and voice your thoughts to him. You knew he never left any quarrel unsolved, never letting you stay upset.

Ultimately, your love for him overwhelmed your resentment, and before you knew it, you grabbed your book and ambled down the stairs.

Your knuckles were white from clutching the book hard when you entered the empty library. The only thing you could think about was if Remus was going to be there.

And he was.

He raised his head from his book the moment you crossed his sight, brown eyes full of different emotions that you couldn't sort.

You chose to ignore how his leg was bouncing and how his hair was way messier than usual.

He softly smiled at you when you sat next to him. You smiled back.

You hoped maybe he would act like everything was alright and you wouldn't have to think about your feelings.

But you inhaled sharply when he didn't.

"We're fighting a lot these days," he said, looking at your fingers rather than your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."

"We didn't fight."

"It may not be a fight, but," he took your hands into his, "I know you're hurt."

When you kept silent, he took this as his cue to go on.

"I'm sorry, dove. I should've known it would hurt your feelings to stand up our evening studies."

"You know well that it is not the matter," you said, pulling your hands back. "Stop acting like you don't."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific."

Dozens of questions raced through your mind, but you only managed to ask the one tearing you apart with jealousy. You pushed to voice that screamed at you, saying 'you're being too blunt' back in its place.

"Does Lily know your secret?"

Remus sighed. He parted his lips and then pushed them back together. You fathomed that he was getting irritated from the twitch of his hand.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't bring this up again–"

"Does she?"

"She does."

"You told her."

"She figured it out herself," he arched his brow at you eloquently. You despised the meaning behind that expression. It mocked you, claiming that you were not as bright as another.

"Of course, she did," You turned your side to him and opened the cover of your book. Little did he know you had figured everything, too. Except, you waited for his confiding.

"Alright, that's it," Remus shut the cover back to regain your attention. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Y/N, you've been picking fights for the last bloody month. And I try, I really, really try to be patient but I don't understand what your problem is."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. 

"Remus, what are you talking about? We were fine until this morning."

Remus held back for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe. But we're having the exact bloody conversation every once a month, and it's getting on my nerves."

This was the last straw for you. Getting on his nerves? 

You had been patient with him since the day you became friends.

You had been understanding towards him every time he pushed you away when he was upset and pulled you back for support.

You had been gentle with him every time he snapped at you before full moons and every time he broke your heart after full moons.

And you had been loving him for the last five years, first as your friend, then as a boy, despite his flaws, blemishes and imperfections.

And now he couldn't even handle your resentment?

Anger climbed its way to your chest, burning down every wall you've ever built to keep your heart's secrets hidden away.

Words were scattered across your mind, ready for you to use them as your weapon against the pain havocing in your soul.

You couldn't keep anything in anymore.

"You know what's getting on my nerves, Remus? You being a liar–"

"I am a liar?"

"Yes. Yes, you fucking are. You have been lying to me for the last five years, and I've been bloody patient.

You think you're being patient? Well, try being best friends with yourself. Someone who lies to you, keeps secrets from you, but tells you you're his best friend, and then fucking repeats everything again."

"I asked you to give me time!"

"And I did! I've been understanding towards you and acted dumb every time you gave me nonsense excuses like you did today."

Remus shook his head. 

"You're being selfish."

"I am being selfish?" your eyes widened in disbelief. He truly had the gall to call you selfish after five years of his lies, excuses, and your espousing only for his sake.

"It's not always about you, you know. I just wanted to spend some time with Lily tomorrow, it's not an excuse."

You sniggered, awed by the way he could lie so easily.

"How come even Evans knows you better than me?!"

Remus clenched his jaw and rose up to his feet. You knew he was trying his best to keep himself collected, not to take out the anger on you, but you had had enough. You looked up to the veins popping up on his neck from your seat when he raised his voice.

"She figured everything out herself! It's not my fault that you can't do that!"

"So, now I have to try to solve you out by myself? That's not how friendships work, Remus! You're supposed to trust me-"

"No! I don't have to do anything! I've had fucking enough. I don't owe anyone anything, including you. Remus this, Remus that. Everyone has something they want from Remus. Everyone rubs their so-called favours and sacrifices into my face, always demanding something in return-"

"I've never even once harped on anything I did for you! I only wanted you to open up to me-"

"And the only thing I asked from you was patience! Fucking patience!" he dashed at you, grabbing you by the sides. "But here you are, bringing up the same bloody thing every month like a broken record! So yes, you are the most selfish girl I've ever met!"

His words cut through your heart like a sword, the same sword you had placed in his hand.

You looked at his dilated pupils and how they almost swallowed the gentleness of the brown you always loved.

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to invade your vision and swallowed the lump in your throat down.

Patience, he had said. Time, he had said. You were selfish, he had said.

An unfamiliar surge of acrimony washed you down, anger flaming in your chest. Its white flames swallowed your love for the boy whole, echoing his words from nothingness.

You pushed him away as hard as you could. He tottered a few steps back, eyes softening at your raged visage. In a blink, you were up from your seat and closed the distance between you two.

"You want patience? I have been patient when you let everyone in but me. I've been patient when you pushed me away in the second year after learning about your father. When you snapped at me for worrying about you. When you yelled at me because I wanted to touch the scar on your face." 

Remus parted his lips, but you held your hand to stop him from talking. With every sentence, your tone was soaring, the tears were prickling your eyes, and you had let go.

"Don't interrupt me! I'm not done. I gave you time when you got 'sick' every month and didn't let me see you or when you cried in my lap but refused to talk to me later. I gave you time when you didn't speak to me for days because you were angry and when you lied to me every month because you didn't trust me enough!

You want time and patience?!

I have given you my time and patience for the last five years and have been loving you for the past three, Remus! So don't you ever dare to call me selfish!"

You snapped your mouth shut, letting the wave of fury and relief wash over you. Remus's eyes changed into something new, something you had never learned about him.

 Only then did a stronger feeling hit you: dread.

You had confessed your love for him. 

His eyes were heavy with emotion, the crease between the brows still reminding you of his anger, while the benign brown lit up the hope inside your soul.

"You what?" a whisper left his mouth, so low that you wouldn't be able to hear it if it wasn't dead silence in the library.

You didn't repeat yourself. You didn't even reply to him. You simply turned away and dashed out of the library.

xxxxx

When you woke up the next morning, all you could think about was that it was a full moon today.

You didn't think it would be a good idea to see Remus today, but you were worried about him. You wished to know how he was, where he was, and how he would endure this night. Would he have new scars the following day? Or a headache? Did he love you back?

So many questions and not enough answers.

James and Sirius were in the Quidditch practice, probably Remus and Peter as an audience. You had decided not to join them this time, trying to drown the chaos in your mind with homework instead. Or maybe you were too embarrassed to acknowledge Remus. 

Anyhow, one can only tolerate writing an essay to one point.

You slapped your book shut, groaning to yourself when you relived your last memory with Remus. Yesterday was the reason why you hated being angry; you would either cry or lose control of your mouth. And since you had bone both of them in one evening, you were planning on rotting in your room. However, your short span of attention was not helping. With every sentence you managed to put together, Remus's brown eyes would pop up in your mind. 

You glanced at the weather; grey clouds and chilly wind. Who would even want to be outside in this weather?

James (and maybe you).

You shook your head and decided that maybe rotting yourself until everyone would forget about your existence was not a good plan, as it was getting boring. Checking the time, you smiled because the Quidditch practice should be finished by now. Thus, you got up and left your dorm room. If only you could make it out of the common room without being seen by Remus. 

Sauntering down the stairs, you slowed your steps. Before revealing yourself, you checked the common room and saw James and Peter laughing. No Remus or Sirius. You wondered if Remus told them about your love confession. You hoped not.

Stopping into the room, you made your way to them, putting on a genuine smile. You tried to suppress the anxiety rising in your throat and reminded yourself that these boys were your friends.

"Look who's here," James narrowed his eyes at you. "The traitor."

"I missed only one practice, James."

"He and Sirius are way more dramatic today. James almost asked Evans to marry him this morning."

"Seems like a normal morning, Pete," you said, even though you couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's Sirius, though?"

"He went to see his brother. Said he'll be back in ten minutes or something."

You hummed at James, pushing your lips together.

"And Remus?"

"With Evans, I wager."

The familiar burn in your chest resurfaced. 

"I'll go find Sirius. See you guys later."

"You have a death wish, I see?"

You jumped at Sirius's voice. As opposed to what you said to James and Peter, you didn't go looking for Sirius. Instead, you were strolling around the castle yard. You liked how the frigid air sent shivers down your spine, it was refreshing. And you, without a doubt, needed refreshment.

"How'd you know?"

"You're walking around in nothing but your sweater?"

You smiled and shrugged, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, he removed his black leather and placed it on your shoulders. You caught the burn on his hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sirius glanced at his hand shortly and yanked it back into the pocket of his trousers.

"Ah. Nothing. Snape and I had a little duel just now."

"Sirius, this is getting out of hand. You need to stop."

"Yeah, don't worry. It's going to end tonight."

Your heart dropped. 

"What do you mean?"

He burst into laughter, worrying you more. 

"I'm going to scare the hell out of that prick, he'll never dare touch me again."

You attempted a smile, though you weren't sure it came out smooth.

"What do you mean?"

Sirius turned to you, patting your arm with his fist. "Don't worry about it. Tell me what made you take a walk in such weather."

Now you were both worried and uncomfortable. Embarrassment was burning your ears up, making you wish that the ground would split in two and swallow you whole. However, you decided to bury the worries and awkwardness. You deserved someone listening to you, after all, so you shared everything with him.

After a few gasps and woahs, you quietened while Sirius was contemplating what to say and how to say it.

"You haven't seen him since?"

You shook your head no.

"Well, he was grumpy this morning, but I don't think it's related to you."

Yet, you were certain that it was related to you. 

He was grumpy because he was angry at you. He was grumpy because he didn't return your feelings, and you made him uncomfortable by confessing them. He was grumpy because you just shattered your friendship. Or maybe he was grumpy because it was a full moon.

"I think he hates me now."

Sirius snorted at your declaration. "You're one hell of an overthinker, aren't you?"

When you didn't reply, he pushed you with his side softly, "Hey, come on, it's Moony we're talking about. He can never hate you."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Yes, I can. Remember in the third grade how he literally hated all of us for burning his paper?"

"I mean, he wasn't exactly wrong. We did destroy two weeks' work."

"Exactly. He rained hell upon us for a month. Well, most of us. He didn't touch you, and whenever we would ask him why, he would hit us before saying, 'It would hurt her feelings'."

You smiled at the thought of thirteen years old Remus coddling you.

"I didn't know that."

"You don't know why James changed his wand last year in the middle of the semester, either."

"I thought he broke it."

"Nah, Moony broke it."

Your eyebrows shot up in bewilderment, amusing Sirius. He nodded before resuming to talk.

 "James had a brilliant idea to cast a spell on you that would twist your tongue every time you talked. Remus wanted to waver him from it, but he was stubborn, that bastard. So before he could cast the spell, Remus broke his wand in our dorm and made it look like an accident to James."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes tearing up from intense emotions. Remus always knew about your anxiety, and he had always cared enough to help you through it. Whenever you would fidget with your fingers because you were about to give a big speech, he would put his hand on yours to calm them down. Whenever you would sweat because the professor was criticising you in front of the whole class, he would touch his knee to yours to let you know he was there. Whenever someone would make fun of you, he would be the first one to stand up for you.

"I didn't know he had it in him."

"Oh, he has a lot more in him when you are the matter," Sirius side-hugged you, letting you lean in. "You can ask him if you want."

You frowned, about to ask him what he meant but stopped in your tracks when your eyes sorted Remus from the other side of the yard. He was with Lily. Before you could ask Sirius to return to the castle, he yelled from the top of his lungs to make himself heard.

"Oi! Moony!"

"What are you doing?!" you whisper-shouted at Sirius, who was dragging you to Remus's side. 

"You can't avoid him forever."

As you got closer and closer to his side, your heart picked up the pace. You didn't feel ready to talk to him today. You were sure you wouldn't be ready tomorrow either.

Lily waved at you two when you made it to their side. You noticed the bags under Remus's eyes and his bouncing leg. You refused to lock your gaze, focusing on Lily's glorious smile. Still, you could feel his burning gaze piercing your heart.

You had tuned out their talking, alerting your mind only to Remus's presence. You didn't hear Lily's giggle or Sirius's mocking tone; you didn't even care what they were talking about.

You only cared that Remus was bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temple.

You longed to put your hand on his leg to calm it down, hold his hand so that he would stop hurting them, and kiss his temple so maybe it would tender the ache.

Your heart was burning up in your chest, clenching in agony. The agony of being so close and yet so far away from him.

Every tune around you was muffled, slave to even a whisper from Remus, but he wasn't making a single sound.

You had lost count of how many heartbeats were beating in your chest, wasting time by beating away from Remus's heart.

Suddenly, they stopped.

"I have to go," said Remus.

His hoarse tone shattered everything into nothing.

He got up from Lily's side and walked back into the castle. You didn't follow him.

You missed his voice.

The weather was dark and still cold. You clung to Sirius's jacket more tightly. He hadn't asked for it back and said he would take it from you tomorrow.

You should return to the common room; it was neither safe nor clever to wander around at night. And you did. You turned around and started striding to the castle, only to flinch when you saw a figure exiting it.

It was hard for you to distinguish the person, so you followed him. You waited for the light of the full moon to reveal the silhouette's identity to you. You bit down your lip when you saw Severus Snape sauntering towards the Whomping Willow.

He must've lost his mind.

Your heart fastened with Severus's every step, dread of what was about to come sending tremors down your body. Your fingers itched in anticipation.

You hid behind a bush and watched him with terror. It was dark at night. It was a full moon. You were near the Whomping Willow.

Why did you even follow Snape?

When he finally crossed the safe proximity, the tree started moving. Your hand covered your mouth, your eyes unable to blink.

You waited for the tree to frantically shake and sway its branches. You waited for it to injure Severus or maybe even kill him.

But it didn't.

The moment it started to move an inch, it stopped. You thought maybe Snape had cast a spell; you could only see his back.

He slowly approached the tree, disappearing into a hole under it.

You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the tree. You felt uncomfortably vulnerable at that moment, standing out in the open where you could get attacked by every side and wouldn't even be able to prevent it.

What if the tree starts moving when you're near?

Where did Snape go?

Should you even be here?

If there was only one question you knew the answer to, it was the last one.

You wanted to return to the castle and forget about all this in the morning. You truly did. However, you figured that there was no turning back when you heard a howl and a scream coming from the hole.

You jumped back with fear, oblivious to the yelp that left you.

Your first instinct was to run. Run away as fast as you could, without looking back, but something deep in your conscience didn't let you flee.

What if Snape was alone out there, and he needed help?

What if he was injured?

You cursed under your breath and took one more step towards the tree.

Your heart was pounding in your ear, competing with the sound of the howl down on the ground. You convinced yourself that it was the fear that made the howling sound closer than before.

One, two, three.

You exhaled sharply and started running to the hole.

You prayed that the tree wouldn't move.

Your legs made a stop before you could fathom what was happening.

More than one figure emerged from the ground, but your eyes only saw the big, ugly beast. Moonlight was glistening through its thick grey fur, displaying a horrendous sight. The tawny glow in its eyes was impossible to miss, as well as its tall and scrawny bone structure. The snarls from the beast were threatening to change into something more dangerous. 

Snape was screaming. You could swear you heard James, your name or maybe your own scream too.

However, your eyes never left the beast.

You had seen it in the pictures. You knew what it was.

A werewolf.

Remus.

And it was planning to attack Severus.

Your Remus.

You took out your wand, not even once looking away from the beast. Your mind was chasing every charm you've ever chanted, looking for the best one for the situation. 

The beast pounced on Snape with a growl.

Snape slumped into the ground. 

The beast towered over him, ready to attack. 

You aimed your wand at it, screaming the first thing that came to mind. 

"Petrificus Totalus!"

You had diverted the beast's attention, presenting an opportunity for James to save Snape.

"No, Y/N!" 

When James's cry tore your mind from the shock, you understood that you had made a mistake. 

Spells don't work on werewolves.

A gasp left your mouth when the werewolf directed its attention from Severus to you. You didn't see Snape fleeing or James carefully walking to you. All you could see was the icy light in its eyes glaring at you, sending sheer panic down your spine.

You hesitated to make any more sound, no matter how much you wanted to yell James's name for help. 

You didn't know how to fight werewolves, no one had ever taught you that. You didn't want to die, either.

The growl from the beast intensified, sending you enough signals that the inevitable was close. With your every step back, it was taking a step forward. 

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Y/N RUN!

And you did. 

You ran until your lungs gave out, your legs crippled, and your heart burst.

You ran until your eyes watered from the chilly air, your nose hurt from the sharp breaths, and your ears echoed the beast's growls.

A branch cut just above your cheek, but you didn't stop.

 You ran until you lost control of your mind, giving it up to your body, performing purely under adrenalin.

But the beast ran with you, too. It followed you into the forest, howling and growling, letting you know death was close. Letting you know that the screams drowning in the night were in vain. Letting you know that the tears staining your face were in vain.

Your breaths mingled with your screams, your hair getting into your mouth. Sweat and tears melded into each other, burning up the cut on your face.

Before you could understand what had happened, your body hit the cold ground with a thud. Your eyes clenched shut, taking in pain vibrating through you. You felt the soil staining your face and body. Your weeping turned into a shriek when you felt yourself yanked into the dirt on your stomach.

Your eyes widened with fear when you finally fathomed the claw grabbing your ankle. It dragged you back, hoping to get the claws on your throat, too. Your fingers dug into the earth. You fought to free yourself from the beast. The jagged stones on the ground gashed your forearm. The dirt stung the gash. Your blood glistened under the moonlight. The beast howled. It turned you on your back.

Remus, Remus, Remus.

One last cry left you. The beast raised its claws, towering over you.

Remus.

You closed your eyes. The tears didn't stop.

Moony.

A high-pitched whine soared in the sky. You were sure it didn't come from you. Something hit your hip. You opened your eyes. 

A stag. 

A stag stroke the beast with its horns in the underbelly, tossing it away from you. The stag jumped over you, attacking the werewolf again. Animalistic voices ascended in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

You crawled behind a large rock and took deep breaths. You knew you had to run. This was your opportunity to flee for your life, but you had exhausted your body. You needed time to recover.

The growls and whines never stopped. They got louder and quieter. Closer and farther. You didn't know.

You raised your head. The Moon was gleaming, casting light your way as if telling you to get going. You couldn't. Not now.

You lowered your head at your hands. They were filthy with dirt, the soil blackening the insides of your nails.Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶u̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶. You moved your left arm, checking the backside of your forearm. T̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶a̶r̶m̶. You winced at the scar and the fresh blood around it. Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶o̶n̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶

Without warning, a sob left put your mouth, startling you. You pressed your uninjured hand on your lips, listening around. The voices had stopped. Neither the stag nor the beast was there. You were safe.

Your hands didn't leave your mouth, so terrified that if they did, you would make a noise and lure in the beast again. You knew your body was reacting to the shock and exhaustion, but you despised the tears flooding from your eyes. You needed to get it together and leave the Dark Forest. Albeit the beast was gone, the forest was still dangerous. 

You stood up with a groan, not lowering your wand for protection. Your clothes were spoiled, and you were hurting. You looked around to find a familiar way back to the castle.

"Y/N!"

You aimed your wand at the voice, your heart retaking the pace. The voice was familiar, but you were not in the right mind to identify it.

"It's me, hey. Lower your wand," James's gentle voice weakened your muscles, your hand shaking and breath hitching. Relief surged you from head to toe.

You didn't remember when you dropped your wand into the ground and threw yourself into James's warm embrace. You only remembered how he soothed you as you sobbed with exhaustion.

"You alright?" he put a hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist to check you out after you pulled away from the hug. You nodded, feeling his gaze on your injured arm.

"Where were you?" You didn't recognise your own tone, rasp and brittle.

"Here. With you."

Something hit you in the gut. A realisation twinkled in your mind, finally comprehending the depth of 'Prongs'.

"You were the stag."

He smiled at you. "I knew you were a bright witch."

James Potter being an animagi wasn't the first priority for you tonight. 

"What happened to..." you couldn't let out the rest of the sentence. The beast. R̶e̶m̶u̶s̶

"I led it back to the Whomping Willow."

The next moments passed with silence, you two walking together to the castle and James subtly keeping his hand behind your back to make sure you were fine. You relived everything from the beginning, this time making sense of the incidents. You had so many questions and even more feelings gushing in you.

"I don't understand, James."

"Hmh?"

"Why was Snape there? Where were Sirius and Peter?"

You heard James clear his throat. His tone changed from gentle to furious in a moment.

"Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. That bastard thought it would be a good prank. He told me later because he had started to second-guess himself," he retorded, "Peter was also there, you just didn't see him. I sent him to make sure Severus gets into the castle safely."

No. 

You shook your head, not believing your ears. This couldn't be what Sirius meant by handling the Snape problem. You didn't want to believe it. Not because you were thinking too highly of Sirius but because you imagined how devastated Remus would be the next morning. You knew how much he trusted his friends.

"Remus..." you muttered under your breath, earning a hum from James that signalled him thinking the same thing. 

"Sirius will be in big trouble. I'm sure Snape had already run to Dumbledore."

You turned to James with widened eyes, he talked before you could panic. 

"Don't worry. He didn't see me as the stag or see Peter at all. That's why I was belated. I'm sorry I couldn't make it there sooner."

"Thank you for even making it there," you whispered, closing your eyes when the castle entered your sight. You avoided thinking about the possibility that James might not make it in time. What would happen then was something tragedic you never wanted to admit. "Will you see Remus tomorrow morning?"

James looked at you with such intense emotion that you thought he was pitying you.

"I will but–"

"I want to be there with you."

"No, Y/N, listen," he scratched his chin. You stared at him in question.

"I will have to explain everything to Remus tomorrow. And by that," he said, "I mean everything."

"James, I want to–"

"No. I don't want you to be there when I tell him how he almost killed you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be there either."

"But it's not his fault–"

"That's not what he's going to think in the morning. I'll talk to him alone. Don't insist."

This was the most serious you had ever seen James Potter. Thus, you knew he wasn't going to back down. So, you didn't insist.

By the time you were in the common room, your body had calmed down, now only exhibiting exhaustion symptoms. James hugged you one more time before sending you to your dorm room.

"Shower with warm water and go to bed. I'll be in the common room if you can't sleep."

You wanted to ask him why he didn't go to sleep, but you couldn't even part your lips. So you simply offered him a weak smile and headed straight to the bathroom. The girls in your room were already asleep, meaning you had to be extra careful not to wake them up.

You scoffed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frantic hair, shrunk pupils, a cut on your cheek and dirt on your face. As if all these weren't enough, the gash on your arm was throbbing with pain, blood staining your sweater and maybe even Sirius's jacket too.

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water clean you thoroughly. You clenched your teeth to suppress the groan you wanted to let out of pain from your cuts. The black dirt left you as the water stroke down your body, helping you get this night out of your skin.

Your eyes were glued to the dirt getting washed away, harking back to how the beast hauled you onto the ground. Your skin still remembered the burn from the rough friction.

You couldn't close your eyes, you couldn't even blink. Every time you did, a pair of two glistening yellow eyes would stare at you, threatening to hunt you down if you kept your eyes closed a second more. If you thought about the beast a little bit more, you were sure you would have a panic attack.

So you let your mind wander around something else.

Brown locks, chocolate eyes and pink lips. 

Your lips curved when you recalled his soft voice, the way he called you dove. You warmed up, and not because of the water but because of the memory of how Remus gently stroked your hair. How he wiped away your tears. How he braided your hair perfectly after begging Peter to teach him. How he had always given you something hand-made on your birthdays because he couldn't buy anything.

You missed him. You missed the gentle smile he was always offering you. You missed your tender bickering and his teasing innuendoes.

You had missed your best friend, and no matter what would happen tomorrow, you were going to talk to him.

You couldn't sleep well that night. You even had a nightmare about what happened.

James was late in the dream; you died in the end.

So you stayed up all night, only being able to dive into sleep when the air was lightening up, turning into sapphire blue. At the same time of the day, Remus was turning back to his human self. You would chuckle at the irony if you weren't sleep deprived.

When you woke up, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your roommate was beside you, a glass of water in her hand. You felt sweat drops in your neck and temple; you must be having another nightmare, then.

She offered you the glass, which you gladly accepted. 

"Thank you," you said rather hoarsely. 

"It's almost five in the afternoon, hun."

You sat up in your bed, brushing your hair back with your hands. You had a terrible headache.

"It is?"

"Aye. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Lizzie, thank you," you smiled at her before leaving the bad. You were both grateful and uneasy that you had missed the most part of the day. This meant that Remus had already learned about the prank.

You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You looked way better than yesterday night, undoubtedly. Your face had gained its colour back, and your frenzied eyes were glistening with something other than horror. The only flaws were the small cut on your face and the new eyebags.

You got ready and went down to the common room. Because it was Sunday today, the common room was crowded with students. 

Your eyes searched any of the Marauders but failed. They weren't here, and you were hungry. You made your way to the Great Hall, accompanied by nice growls from your stomach. Fortunately for you, it was dinner time.

You were too focused on the food before to find yourself a seat, so you didn't notice anyone approaching you. You flinched when a kind hand touched your arm.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, hiya Lily."

The red-haired girl smiled at you with emerald eyes. She pointed to a corner around the table with her finger. "Potter asked me to call you."

Your eyes found James, who looked as tired as you but still managed to put on a simpering smile. "Cheers," you said to Lily.

You sat next to him, stuffing your plate. Your stomach growled harder at sight.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, watching you nibble on a toast.

"Have been worse. You?"

"Have been worse."

You knew what you had to ask him, but you also knew you needed your appetite at the moment, or you would starve yourself. So you simply hummed and hastened to finish your meal.

You tried not to think about the two empty seats as you sipped your drink. James and Peter were having small talk, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't listen to that either.

You swallowed your last piece as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable. James looked at you briefly, and you understood what it meant. He raised from his seat, having you follow him.

When you two found an abandoned corner, you turned to him, tuning out the racing of your heart.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" he pointed under your eyes with a nod of his head. You shook your head. 

"Did you talk to him?"

Unfamiliar gloom darkened James's features. "I did. Told him everything."

He glanced at you before averting his eyes away again. "He just listened. Thanked me in the end and said he wanted to be left alone."

Your heart clenched in pain. You didn't want him to be left alone. "Where is he?"

"Dunno. Didn't look for him."

"Where's Sirius?"

James stayed silent for a few seconds. "Dunno, either. We had a fight, but my guess is somewhere in the forest in his animagi form."

You didn't dwell on it any further. You loved Sirius, but you loved Remus more than anyone. Albeit you weren't furious at him, you still didn't plan on seeing him any sooner. 

"I need to talk to Remus, James."

"I truly don't know where he is."

You had to find him. You had to find him and tell him that it wasn't his fault. 

You nodded at James, mumbling a quick bye before wandering around the castle, trying to figure out where he could be.

He wouldn't go to the library. It would be an easy guess for anyone trying to find him.

James said Sirius would be outside of the castle. You were sure Remus wouldn't risk encountering him.

That left you two or three places that you knew Remus would run whenever he wanted to avoid people. So you got going.

You didn't find him at Room of Requirement or Hospital Tower. You cursed the school for being this large in area. It took you almost an hour to get from one side of the castle to another. Fortunately, you were sure Remus was on the Astronomy Tower.

As you got closer and closer to the tower, anticipation chased your heartbeats high, your hands fidgeting with their fingers. You took a moment to regulate your breathing, which had no effect on your pacing heart.

Without wasting one more moment, you entered the tower.

There he was, sitting on the ground, his head low between his hands. Around him was cold and dark, gleaming with the light from the Moon and stars. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You stepped forward, letting the sound of your footsteps alert him. He didn't acknowledge you, but you were sure he had heard you. Heartbreak burned through you, maiming you because of the distance between you two.

Your steps stopped next to him. He still hadn't looked up to you but hadn't asked you to go away either. So you sat next to him, raising your head to gaze at the stars while his head was low between his hands.

"The stars are beautiful, Remus."

He didn't budge. He didn't even move. You peeked at his chocolate-brown hair, suppressing the urge to mess with them.

"Your hair looks nice today."

Silence. You didn't know if he was ignoring you or simply ignoring everyone, and it wasn't something about you.

"Doesn't your neck hurt?"

"No."

You gulped when his voice echoed in the air. 

"It must hurt if you've been keeping it like that for a long time."

"It doesn't."

"Liar."

Silence again. You yearned for his voice once more.

"You can put your head on my shoulder, Remus."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away, dove."

His voice was fragile and pleading. It broke your heart, shattered it into million little pieces. A lump made its way to your throat. 

"Why?" you asked, a voice as broken as your heart. "I don't want to go away."

"But I want you to," he loosened his fingers from his hair, dropping them to his lap.

You turned to him. "Don't push me away, Remus."

You reached for his hand, but he gently pulled them away. "Remus, please."

He shook his head, still not looking at you. 

"I need to know why you don't want me here."

He left your side, ambling to the parapet of the tower and leaning to it. You stared at his back in disbelief.

"Remus-"

"Go away, Y/N."

"You won't even look at my face when you kick me out."

Finally, he snapped his head and locked eyes with you. His eyes looked tired, blazing into yours. He had a new scar under his lower lip, from James's horns, probably.

"Go away."

You stood up, frowning in annoyance. "No, I'm not going anywhere," you took stern steps in his direction and closed the disturbing distance. "We need to talk, Remus."

You adored his amber eyes despite your annoyance. You loved to dive into its depth and get lost, sorting out every colour one by one.

He stayed where he was, but you detected his eyes lowering from your eyes. He stared at the cut above your cheek, clenching his jaw.

You unconsciously turned away and hid it from Remus. Memories flooded in a blink and raised the panic inside you. You could still feel the wind hitting your face and the sting from the branch that cut your skin as you fled for your life from the beast.

"It's nothing," you uttered.

Remus scoffed at your face. You saw his eyes change into something harsh and his brows furrow.

"Yeah, sure. The cut in your arm is also nothing."

You didn't ask how he knew that. After all, James did tell you that he would let Remus know everything.

"It'll heal."

"And why is it there in the first place?"

Remus took a step forward when you didn't answer.

What were you supposed to say? Because his wolf form chased you down, and you got injured trying to flee?

"I'll tell you why," he said, voice raised. "Because I hunted you down, tossed you to the ground, and yanked you around. I only did it so I could kill you."

"No–"

"Is that what you wanted to talk about? How I'm a bloodthirsty monster whose first instinct is to kill?"

"You weren't yourself."

"What would happen if James wasn't there?"

You pushed your lips together and closed your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

"No, open your eyes," he raised your head by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me what would've happened if James wasn't there."

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to invade your vision. Remus made you relive the same nightmare you had that night over and over again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you to understand! I need you to understand that I'm not someone you can fucking love!"

You startled in your place, both by his anger and claim. Something had burst into flames inside you now that he had finally acknowledged your feelings.

You opened your mouth to quarrel, to tell him he's wrong, and that you loved him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he didn't let you interrupt him.

"You think I haven't thought about what you said in the last two days? You haven't left my mind for even a bloody second!" his tone was raised but broken.

"You were the one pushing me away!"

"Because I wanted to keep you away from all this shit! I wanted you to see me as something other than a cursed boy. Why do you think I never shared that secret with you?!"

"That secret is part of your story, Remus. If you thought that I wouldn't love you with it, you must've been out of your mind."

You didn't think he understood the depth of your love for him, and you needed him to understand. It didn't even matter if your feelings were not returned.

He shook his head no.

"No one, Y/N, no one loves a monster like me."

"I do," you pleaded.

Words weren't enough to convince him or express your love for him, but you were trying.

He took your arm in his hand and pulled the left sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the gash. You tried to pull your arm back, but he overpowered you, tightening the hold on your arm. You grimaced when his fingers pushed on the scar.

"This is what happens when you love someone like me."

You used your whole strength and tugged your arm back. You marvelled at your tone when you spoke.

"Stop it! You weren't yourself, Remus!"

"How does that even change anything?!" he screamed, his voice breaking and his eyes tearing up. "Don't you understand? I am a danger to you!

"Remus–"

"You think this is easy for me?! I have fucking lost my mind these last two days because you were the only one in it! My brain wouldn't think of any name other than yours! My heart wouldn't beat for any name other than yours! And when I am finally ready to tell you that I love you, too, James comes and tells me that I almost fucking killed you!"

His eyes were blood red, and the veins in his neck had popped up. Tears left his red eyes and paved the way down from his jawline to his neck.

Remus was crying.

It was a sight you had never got used in the last five years.

Your mind refused to work, denying to comprehend the words that left his mouth. It was all too much, and all in one moment.

"You love me, too?'

You didn't recognise your own voice, probably because all you could hear was Remus's confession. You expected your heart to race this time also, but instead, it was dead silent. Or maybe you were just too focused on Remus's eyes.

His tears never stopped, and he never tried to stop them.

He was breaking down at last.

You walked up to him and closed whatever distance was left. You looked up into his eyes as he lowered them to you.

"But you didn't kill me," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes, raining more tears on your hand. You gently wiped them away.

"I'm here, Remus. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I love you. I don't love you despite your curse, I love you with it."

Remus scrunched up his face, letting out a sob before sinking his head down your shoulder. You felt his tears on your neck.

At that moment, you knew no words would ever soothe the storm in his heart.

So you held him as he bawled like a child.

His crying sent daggers to your heart, ripping it open.

You begged for his pain to become yours so that he would never hurt the way he was hurting now.

You didn't know how many minutes past. All you knew was Remus's sobs and whimpers hurt you like nothing else ever did.

You didn't let go when the heavy sobs turned into heavy sighs or when the tear-fall in your neck turned into warm breaths.

You caressed his hair and kissed his neck when he calmed down. When he talked, it was gritty and low.

"I'm a monster, dove. A monster that will tear you to pieces if you get near."

"I love you," you whispered. You felt him let a short, breathy scoff to the crook of your neck.

"I attacked Snape last night like a beast."

"I love you."

"I almost killed you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You shut your eyes, breaking your face into a tiny smile. Four words, one sentence, and his lips close to your neck was all you needed for revival.

Remus inched away from your neck, lingering his lips next to your wound. The red in his eyes hadn't worn off, but the brown of his eyes was blazing with affection.

You drew a sharp breath when he kissed above your cheek.

He caressed the nick lengthwise with tender pecks. His hand grazed your other cheek while the other one made its way to your waist.

You held your breath when he lowered his lips, hovering them above your lips. His hot breath tingled your face, you fought the urge to close your eyes.

He whispered your name, and that's when you gave in. You closed your eyes and unknowingly parted your lips.

One second lasted one year. 

Something flamed up down in your chest when you felt Remus's soft lips on yours. He kissed your lips gentle and soft, but short. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, chestnut brown darkening with every second.

"I love you," he whispered.

Within a blink, his lips crashed into your lips again, this time more intense, more passionate, taking away the air in your lungs. You melted to his touch, letting his lips savour yours while his hand on your waist tugged you closer. Your breaths mingled together, leaving your heart fluttering in your ribcage.

If time had stopped and trapped you at this moment, you wouldn't complain.

You craved his scent on your soul, his touch on your body and his lips on your lips. But most importantly, you were more than glad to be buried in his love.

He pulled away and smiled at the way you filled your lung with air. You felt his thumb caress your face.

"There's no getting rid of me, now, dove." 

His smile was tired, his eyes still carrying the heartbreak of yesterday. You knew he was still a broken boy inside, but you loved him anyway.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!

if you enjoyed my writing and this fic, please, buy me a cofee <33

[aureliqs]

Short and sweet <3

restless

Remus Lupin x reader who can't sleep ✩ 548 words

cw: fluff, Remus is very sweet, established relationship

an: definitely did not write this when I couldn't sleep last night

When you begin to rouse from sleep, you can tell it’s still the middle of the night. There’s no soft glow filtering through the curtains, no rustling of the covers beside you. The only proof of someone else in the bed is the faint sound of soft snoring and a warm leg draped over one of your own. 

It feels like you haven’t slept through the night in months. Remus has the same issue, but he always seems to drift back to sleep as soon as he wakes. You, however, are left staring at the ceiling, waiting for day to break

With tight muscles and slow movements, you start to slip out of bed, feeling a little like someone sneaking away from a one-night stand. But this isn’t a one-night stand. It’s your home, and you’ve been lying beside your boyfriend. Just as you sit on the edge of the bed, there’s movement behind you, making you turn.

“Where you going?”, his voice is scratchy and filled with sleep, eyes barely open, squinting at you through the darkness. You wince, not because he isn’t lovely but because you feel bad.

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper, hating the idea of disturbing him. He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to shake off the sleep, then stretches toward your side of the bed, reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can.

“That’s alright, lovely,” he murmurs, his words slurring with fatigue. “Can’t sleep?”

You hum an affirmative and watch as he reaches over to flick on the bedside lamp. Your heart squeezes at the sight of him—tired but still so attentive, the guilt building in your chest

“You can go back to sleep, Rem, I’m fine.”

He looks heartbroken at that, and his response is immediate. “No, not until you do, pretty”.

You suppress a giggle at how he loses his inhibitions when he’s tired, slipping into his flirty side.

You chuckle softly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re sweet, but really, you don’t have to stay awake just for me,” you say, glancing over at him. His eyes are still heavy, though they are beginning to clear.

But he doesn’t back down. His arm stretches across the bed to rest on your waist, pulling you back toward him. "I’m awake now. And if you’re not sleeping, then I’m not sleeping," he insists, his voice a little more steady, though still laced with sleep.

 His warmth is comforting, his hand gently squeezing your waist as if to remind you he’s right here. "You really are something else," you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He hums in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand beginning to trace slow, soothing circles on your back.

You close your eyes, the motion of his hand settling you into something resembling peace. It’s not sleep, not yet, but it’s enough. His heartbeat under your ear is steady, grounding.

The minutes stretch on, and the tension in your body begins to melt away. The heat from his body seeps into yours, filling the space between you.

Finally, sleep begins to claim you once again, but not before you hear the soft murmur of his voice:

“Love you, dove.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! i appreciate all feedback <3

[aureliqs]

I absolutely loved this. So so so beautiful !!! ❤️

passing moments

remus lupin x reader ⊹ 9.6k

for this request!

cw ⟢ rekindling friends to lovers, tension, pining, lots of angst, reader is a big daydreamer, slowish burn

time was the enemy, always working against you. until remus had enough and decided to take control of his fate--you.

a/n: did cry real human tears writing this...but anyway hope you enjoy!! not proofread!

Quite early on in life you learnt two things.

First—timing is everything.

One split-second decision has the power to change the entire trajectory of a moment, and that will trickle into your day, your week, your month—altering things in ways you’ll only notice much later. A choice as small as turning left instead of right, staying instead of leaving, speaking instead of staying silent.

And although, you tried not to dwell on things like that too much, you often found yourself staring up the ceiling fan, thumbs twiddling on your lap—lost in deep thought. Recounting moments, mind flitting back and forth trying to distinguish things, pin-point the trivial choices you’d made. Pondering. The possibilities, the what-ifs, the way things could change, if you’d done something else how different the moment you were in now could be.

Only sometimes did it frustrate you, the way life was seemingly always a one track path—curious of the small branches each decision could form.

All the coulds, woulds, shoulds melting away in a fraction of a second.

The permanance of it all erked you.

Still, you’re thankful that in the moment, you aren’t debilitated by the action of decision making, rarely plagued with regrets, just harmless wondering. It wasn’t a frequent occurence for you to wish to turn back time.

“You’re thinking too loudly, Y/N, it’s distracting.”

Regulus.

Sitting behind you with James and his brother on the table in the Gryffindor common room, supposedly studying for the advanced potions exam but you zoned them out ages ago. Head tilted back resting on the edge of the sofa—you looked quite peaceful in your mindless contemplation, Remus thought, he’d been subtely watching from the other end. His back against the arm of the sofa, book resting on the ball of his knees that he’d brought up into his chest. Tracing over your side profile in his mind, your head rolling slightly as you lifted it up, as if it was weighty on your shoulders.

You didn’t turn back to look at them behind you, only producing a small questioning hum, gaze falling on the fire. Remus continued watching as your eyes unfocused, blinks become slower and slower, almost entranced by the embers flicking off the body of fire.

The rise and fall pattern of your chest slowing as you sunk deeper into yourself again. He had to fight the twitch at the corners of his lips, sometimes you drifted away with the fairies, only a physical presence in the room—and he found it rather endearing. Using that time to steal small glances at you, the way the jogging of your foot slowed to a stop, how your face relaxed and rested in a slight pout.

He stretch out one of his long legs, letting it fall off the edge and brush against your ankle—the contact brought your back down, turning your head to him quickly a small sheepish smile blooming on your face; you’d been caught.

Still shifting in his seat, sitting upright, letting his limbs extend and crossing his ankles over one another, his book opened face down on the armrest. Remus was still looking at you, a huffed chuckle leaving through his nose when he asked, “You tired?”

Your face scrunched slighty, arms wrapping around yourself, fingertips playing with the loose yarn of your jumper. Shaking your head and mumbling a light, “No,” Remus had already made space for you, gently patting his lap, a signal. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite—you were already moving, twisting your body to rest the back of your head on his lap. Looking up, admiring him, melting into his touch—his hands instinctively playing hairs at the nape of your neck when you turned your head.

And the second you did, he looked down to you, mirroring your previous actions. Watching as the light from the fire flitted across the skin of your cheek, reflecting off the glisten in your eye. He whispered to you, fingertips ghosting over the skin of your neck as he twirled a strand around it, “What y’thinking about?”

Shifting further to get more comfortable, your head rolled back over to him, tongue darting out to wet your lips before you inhaled deeply through your nose—eyes boring into each others. Your brows raised on your face, humming out an answer, “Hmmm…just things,”

Remus leaned down dramatic and inquistive, hand having abandoned your stray hairs, and was now stroking over the top of your head. Your face split into a wide grin at the playful glint in his eye—voice full of feigned skepticism, wiggling his brows at you.

“Ooo, scandal! What things?”

You couldn’t help that laugh that bubbled in your chest, shaking on his lap, eyes squeezing shut as you giggles filled the room—his chest bloomed with pride when you broke, grinning with you. His fingers twitched at his sides in efforts not to just squish your face because, Merlin were you pretty.

Your friends watched the scene from the far table.

But no-one said anything, it was the norm. You and Remus—close, very comfortable with each other, but just friends. They all knew it; he liked you, you liked him, but for whatever reason neither of you addressed it.

The fond looks, lingering touches, magnetised to each other, but never crossing that line that you’d both magically drawn in the same place.

In the great hall, you sat with Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, they were all engaging in light conversation—enjoying their lunch. But you sat there silent, face vacant, mind drifting off far far away. So far infact that even in all their noisy hustle and bustle, the clattering of plates and scratching of benches, you hadn’t notice the late arrival of the boys.

Toast barely half buttered let alone eaten, hands cradling your wrists, completely content in your daydream. Not long after they settled in, Sirius snicker at your flat gaze—nudging James with his elbow before nodding over to you, and he quickly joined him in amused observation. Unsuprisingly, the whole table began watching you, the sound of metal against the china of their plates had slowed and they were waiting—waiting for you to notice or feel their gaze.

Sirius even went as far as to blow at you in hopes of a reaction, barking out a laugh when you didn’t move at all; “D’you reckon she’s sleeping with her eyes open?”

Even Remus chuckled lightly at your blank expression, after eventually deciding that your friends had had more than enough fun experimenting and speculating, he ran his hand from the top, gently trailing down the entirety of your spine, settling in the small of your back. And following the movement of his hand, your back arched, straightening, becoming taut—finally blinking your way back into the room with a deep inhale through your nose.

The table erupted with small giggles and snickers, you whipped your head around at them, and then to Remus—wide-eyed and innocent, he just ducked his head down with an airly laugh, his palm still pressed against you. “What? What’s so funny?” You couldn’t help but smile along with them, even in your oblivion.

“Oh nothing. It’s just that Moony factory reset you like you were a Monster Book of Monsters.”

This time it wasn’t just small snickers, the laughter barked and sounded loud around the great hall at Sirius comment, poor Lily even choked on her pumpkin juice, spluttering out a laugh. Your mouth was agape, heat rushing to your ears but you didn’t have any words to fight back with, just shaking your head—hand reaching out for your globet and taking a shy sip.

The chaos did eventually die down, as did the heat in your ears—chatter building again at the table that you stayed present to, humming along. Remus’ hand slid up lightly to your waist as he leaned in, head dipping to your ear. You could feel his breath warm against the skin of your neck as he pulled you in slightly closer, low enough only for you to hear—

”Where d’you go, love?”

You were sure there were goosebumps appearing down the back of your neck.

As you turned to him, your breath hitched just slightly—just enough for Remus to notice, his lips twitching at the corners. His eyes, soft and inquisitive, searched yours, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

Nowhere, you almost said, but your lips parted, and something else came out instead.

“Just thinking.”

His fingers, still resting at your waist, squeezed gently. “About what?”

Pads digging in to your robes slightly, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet, and you rested further into him, a small huff of laughter leaving you—but you stuggled to find the words, hesitating. You were always thinking about the same things, the moments that have passed, the infinite possibility before choice.

“Dunno,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie.

His eyes lingered on you a moment longer, like he wanted to press—like he wanted to reach into your mind and untangle every thought keeping you so far away from him. But then, just like that, the moment passed.

Remus only hummed, low and thoughtful, before leaning away. The warmth of his breath on your skin disappeared, his hand returned to his plate, and you tried to continue your meal—but a small twinge of doubt built in the pits of your stomach. The same itching thoughts, if you’d just said, if you didn’t hold back, if your didn’t lie.

Once again leaving the room, slipping away into yourself.

If, if, if.

Your only hesitation, your only regret, your only reason to wish to turn back time.

Remus.

It wasn’t until your final year that a small distance built between you and him.

At first, it was barely noticeable. A few missed conversations, a shift in routine, your usual late-night talks fading into occasional, fleeting moments. You told yourself it was just school, just NEWTs, just exhaustion. But deep down, you knew better. It was you. It was him. It was time—always working against you.

And then, one evening, during the celebration of Gryffindor’s Quidditch win, you saw it.

Remus, standing in the middle of the common room, golden light flickering across his face, his arms wrapped around her. A Hufflepuff girl—someone kind, gentle, with a soft smile and bright eyes. He was beaming, spinning her to the music that played.

The world around you dulled. The cheers, the base, the laughter—it all became muffled, as if you were underwater, sinking deeper with every second.

You watched as she laughed against his shoulder, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Watched as he leaned in, lips brushing against hers like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

Your heart ached, twisted into something tight and unbearable, and for a while you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. Maybe some part of you thought you deserved to watch—deserved to feel this.

Time was cruel, the second thing you learnt was that nothing lasts forever.

You’d hesitated, debated—watch as a bystander to the passing of time, missing all of your many windows of opportunity, this was your punishment.

The music, laughter, loud chatter, thumping of feet still danced around you, and yet you sat in the corner of the sofa—transfixed on absolutely nothing. Unaware of the time as it slipped away from you—lost, at some point, Regulus took notice.

He had been standing off to the side, lingering in the shadows like he always did, observing. He saw the exact second your expression changed—the way your eyes dimmed, the way your body seemed to curl in on itself, like you disappeared into the noise.

He sat next to you, but you didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge him. Your mind was somewhere else—somewhere far away, but he could always tell, always hear how loud your thoughts were.

So, after a moment, Regulus took your hand.

You blinked, barely registering the warmth of his palm against yours, barely noticing the way he guided you out of the common room. You let him. You followed. The party faded behind you, swallowed by the quiet halls, the cold air biting at your skin as he led you to the bell tower.

And then, you sat.

Neither of you spoke. Regulus wasn’t the type to offer empty words or false reassurances. He didn’t tell you it would be okay or that it would pass. He just stayed. And in the end, that was enough. It wasn’t until he wrapped an arm around you—his touch gentle, grounding—that the cracks began to show.

A single tear slipped past your lashes, landing on your lap, and you forced out a nod.

“He’s happy,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Regulus frowned. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The weight of his silence was enough to say I know—to say I see you.

The next morning, you couldn’t bring yourself to sit next to him.

You came to breakfast late, sliding into the empty seat next to Lily, despite the open space beside Remus. You didn’t feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching. You plate remained untouched, no one questioned your silence—accustom to your drifting. But Lily saw it—the puffiness around your eyes, the way your fingers picked slowly at the skin of your nails, fading in and out of the room.

And so did Remus.

The way your face didn’t have it usual peaceful thinking expression, your shoulders were sagged, each small breath, each rise and fall of your chest moved like it was too heavy, too taxing to breath any deeper—there was no pout on your lips, a telltale sign of your contemplation. Instead your lips were curved down, edged with something sadder.

It made his stomach twist, made something unfamiliar settle in his chest. But before he could act on it, before he could make his way around the table and ask you what was wrong, he heard his name.

“Remus!”

His girlfriend, smiling up at him, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

But then he let himself be pulled away, let himself walk out of the Great Hall without looking back.

Time was a silly and fickle thing.

Without the one constant presence, Remus, time seemed to escape you—more often than not just far away, floating through the days. Because any time you were actually present in the room, a squeezing pressure in your chest gathered, making each word, each thought heavy and burdensome.

It was so much simpler to just fade away with the time.

The first year after graduation, your barely saw him, it made it a bit easier—less like rubbing salt in an open wound and more like a dull ache, something buried just beneath the surface. Manageable, if only because you didn’t have to look at him, didn’t have to hear his laugh or catch the warmth in his eyes that no longer belonged to you.

Time blurred. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months. Life went on—without him, without the weight of what ifs pressing down on your shoulders.

But absence didn’t mean forgetting.

There were still moments—passing through a bookstore and spotting a title you knew he’d love, hearing a joke that would’ve made him throw his head back in laughter, seeing the first full moon of the month and feeling that quiet, familiar worry settle in your chest. Even smells, whiffs of fresh parchment and earl grey tea, laced with rich dark cocoa.

The memories lingered, slipping through the cracks when you least expected them. They weren’t as painful, not exactly. Just...hollow.

Because no matter how far the time stretch, Remus would still have a piece of your soul.

It was a chance encounter, one of those moments that felt almost cruel in its inevitability.

A cafe in Diagon Alley—warm, light streaming through the windows, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The scent of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional clink of porcelain against saucers. It was the kind of afternoon that made the world feel a little slower, a little softer.

Remus hadn’t planned on stopping. He had only been passing by, coat pulled tight around him against the cold, mind elsewhere. But then—through the fogged-up glass of the window—he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat and his legs moved before he could stop them.

You were sitting alone at one of the small corner tables, hands curled around a cup of something warm, though it remained untouched. Your gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular, lost somewhere far away. The familiar empty expression, corners of your lips still tilting downwards.

Against all rational, he stepped inside the café, ordered himself a cup of tea, and made his way over to you.

You didn’t notice.

Not when he pulled out the chair across from you, not when he sat down and set his cup gently on the table. You remained frozen in thought, thumbs gently rubbing over the procealine of the handle—chest rising and falling in that same pattern that Remus knew so well—shallow on the inhale, deeper on the exhale.

He watched you for a few long moments—old habits creeping back in, it hadn’t even been that long—maybe fifteen months since graduation, and you were the same you that he missed. He’d memorised it easily, those small things; the way the slower your blinks were the further away you were, how when you drifted, the longer you spent the more your body would begin to sway.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he spoke.

“Y/N,”

Gods, it was that same unfairly warm and fond tone he always used without knowing, it just rolled off his tongue.

It was as if you’d been pulled abruptly from the depths of some distant memory, yanked back into the present. Your entire body stiffened for a fraction of a second before your eyes finally lifted to meet his, breath catching in your throat—eyes running over his figure.

Remus watched as recognition flickered through them, followed by something else—something unreadable. Your fingers twitched slightly against your cup, and your back straightened, as if bracing yourself.

For a moment, you just stared at him.

Then, your lips parted slightly, and in a voice quieter than you intended, you breathed, "Remus."

His name on your lips did something to him. Opening up that quiet ache in his chest, caught somewhere between longing and nostalgia, between familiarity and distance.

A small, careful smile tugged at his lips. “Hi.”

You blinked, and for a second—just a second—your expression cracked. Something raw passed over your face too quickly for him to grasp. Then, like always, like before, you smoothed it over with a practiced smile, one he had seen countless times before.

Another moment of silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable, not easy either—thick.

For the first time since seeing him, you let yourself look at him. Really look. He was the same, but different. His hair had grown out slightly, curling over his ears. There were faint circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping much. The scar on his cheek, the one you used to trace absentmindedly with your fingers, was still there.

And his eyes—they still held that same warmth, the same quiet intensity, the same way they had always looked at you like he could see through every carefully constructed wall you had ever put up.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Still away with the fairies, Y/N.”

It was a simple statement, lighthearted, harmless—but you felt your lungs squeeze at his voice.

Huffing out a small laugh, though it lacked real amusement, fingers tracing over the rim of your now cold cup, avoiding his gaze with a light shrug; “Mmm, old habits die hard,”

Remus hummed, taking a slow sip of his tea before glancing back at you. “I missed you at Mary’s birthday last month.”

The pressure of his gaze was undeniable, it made you want to hide away, run, escape it. And though he surely didn’t mean it to be scrutinising, you could look at it no other way.

Your fingers curled slightly against your cup.

You hadn’t gone. You’d intended to—had even gotten ready—but in the end, the thought of seeing him had felt too much. It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to, it was just…you weren’t sure if you could bear standing in a room with him and feeling so far away, like a stranger.

Swallowing thickly, “Yeah, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I got caught up with things.”

Leaning forward, brows raised, eyes glistening with a playful curiosity that you hadn’t seen in so long, “Ooo, what things?” His voice was so casual, slipping so easy back into old mannerism with you he couldn’t even catch himself. He smiled softly, watching as your eyes widened slightly—earning a real laugh, small and breathy, shaking your head.

Noting the way the grip on your cup lessened, relieving your shoulders from their overly tense position when you replied. “Nothing interesting,”

Gods did he miss your smile.

He almost missed your words, absorbed in the moment of you, “I would’ve liked to see you there,” he admitted.

Something in your chest ached, like bandages were being taken off too early, too slowly, the wound underneath burning against the harsh contact of air. Inhaling deeply, your smile faltered slightly, swallowing the words you want to say and Remus studied you for a beat too long, he saw it but wasn’t going to push you on it.

Instead, he nodded at nothing, a soft exhale escaping him, as he brought his tea to his lips—he’d tried to drink it slowly, prolong the time he could sit with you, but it was almost finished. His time was almost up.

Placing the cup back onto the table with a dull click, he glanced at your cup, barely touched as you traced the rim—“I was going to the market—if, you’d uh…like to come?” His words were lightly rushed at the start, slowing down in hesitance by the time he reached the end.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, eventually sighing in way that told Remus, she’s about to refuse. A quiet war waged in your mind, hesitation curling around your thoughts like vines, creeping and twisting until they tangled themselves into knots too tight to unravel.

It’s not like you didn’t want to go.

But things were different now—time had passed, life had changed and the space between you both had been filled with too many unspoken things, too many missed chances.

So, instead, you inhaled softly, gaze dropping to your untouched cup. “Remus, I—”

“It’s not too far from here, I promise,”

His gaze was almost pleading as his interrupted, words hurried with a cadance that teetered on desperate. “Just to the market,” you breathed back, more to yourself than anything. As if that made it all alright, as if your heart wasn’t already well on the way to giving out with each moment you spent with him.

He knew deep down he was being selfish, he shouldn’t have put you in this situation, shouldn’t have disturbed you and sat down at the table, shouldn’t even have come in to the shop when he saw you—but he just couldn’t help himself, it was you.

“Just to the market.” He affirmed, a glimmer of hope blooming in his eyes as he watched the cogs turn in your brain, the internal discourse—debating if you should go.

“…Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper—shoulders slumming slightly as you relented.

Remus had to use every signal in his brain not to beam at you, just allowing the corners of his mouth to twitch into a small smile, eyes crinkling at the edges, flickering with something warm, something light—releasing the smallest exhale of relief.

He pushed his chair back slightly, standing and shrugging on his coat before motioning toward the door. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your own movements slower, more careful, as if afraid the moment would shatter if you moved too suddenly.

The streets were painted in hues of late afternoon gold, the cool breeze threading through the air, tousling Remus’ hair and slipping beneath your sleeves.

At some point, without thinking, his fingers brushed against yours—the conversation was light, easy—effortless, just like two friends catching up. Technically, that’s what you were.

Just seeing you settled some of the unrest that seeped into Remus’ bones, but being with you, in your space, conversating like it were just yesterday when you sat together infront of the common room fire—it had him forcing the pits of his stomach to rest with shuddering intakes of breath. It made him feel like he was living again, made him realise that he’d not known peace in your absence.

Constantly finding his heart reeling as each crease forming by your eyes when you smiled, each time you wandered over to a stall, his breath hitched watching you enthuse with the vendor—unbelievely bewitched by your presence. The familiar shiver down his spine when you got close to him, like he was a teenager again.

Gods, you should have said no.

You should have made up a cheap excuse to avoid this, the slippery slope that was Remus Lupin.

You should have said no because you knew you were weak to him, every word that left his lips more hypnotising than the last, willing the away the invasive pinch that accompanied the crooked smile on his face, smothering the urge to let your eyes linger on him as his brows squeezed together with each laugh he let out.

You should have said no because it wasn’t just the market.

Unknowingly, time had escaped you both, trailing down the emptying narrow roads, slowly treading along the cobbled paths, hours passed like minutes until the sun had resigned under the horizon and the skies filled with small scattered pin-pricks of light, the moon smiling down at you.

The laugh that spilled from your lips was cut off with a gasp when you caught glimpse of your watch, it was already so late. Trudging to a sudden halt, Remus looked back—eyes filled with concern, frantically scanning your frame, words immediate and panicked, “What’s the matter?”

Shaking your head, realising how quickly time had slipped through your fingers. “Nothing—I hadn’t realised the time” you admitted, glancing back up at him. “I should probably—”

Go.

You should go.

Remus’ face fell almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. The subtle downturn of his lips, the flicker of something like disappointment in his eyes before he schooled his expression slightly, into something more neutral.

You’d barely started to fill the gaping hole you left in Remus—and now you were leaving?

“You don’t have to rush off,” he said, voice gentle but insistent.

You let out a small breath of a laugh. “Remus, it’s late.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t go home on your own,” he countered easily, slipping back into that same old protective streak of his. “And besides—” He glanced down at your hands, your half empty takeaway cup from earlier, before looking back up at you with raised brows. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

You blinked at him. “I can eat at home—”

He’d only just begun to feel like he could breath again and time was already up?

Remus wasn’t a particularly prideful man, and most definetly was not above begging, not when it came to you—already rushing out words, as if he needed to say them before he lost the nerve. “You can eat with me. At mine.”

That startled you into silence.

Running a hand through his hair, pushing it back before shoving both hands into his pockets. “It’s not far. Just a few stops on the train.” He tried to keep his voice casual, easy, but there was a layer there, undeniable—something raw and vulnerable and desperate.

Your mouth opened, instinct telling you to protest—but at that exact moment, your stomach betrayed you, letting out a rather loud rumble.

Remus’ lips twitched, amusement flashing across his face before he pressed his hand over his heart in mock sincerity. “Really, I insist.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly at the smugness creeping into his expression.

But despite yourself—despite every hesitation curling in the back of your mind—your lips curved upward, just a little.

“…Fine.”

And if Remus let out a breath of relief, if his smile stretched just a bit wider than before—neither of you mentioned it.

The train ride to Remus’ was comfortable and quick—he hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was only a few stops. But as you turned the corner onto his road, as his footsteps slowed, and a quiet realisation settled over you.

You’d never been to his house before.

It wasn’t a big deal—he’d never been to yours either—but still, something about it felt strangely significant. You’d spent countless afternoons, evenings, nights, knee-deep in conversations about homes you’d live in after Hogwarts—the perfect little flat you imagined for yourself, the cozy two-story house Remus had always wanted—planning.

And now, after almost a year and a half apart, you were finally seeing the place he called home.

When he unlocked the door, the lights at the bottom of the corridor were already on, accompanied with the faint sound of a radio and quiet clattering, you were still slipping off your shoes when you looked up at Remus. An expression of mild concern at the liveliness of his house, eyes flickering between the end of the corridor and him—he only huffed out a small chuckle, placing his hand lightly on your back motioning you further in.

Squinting at him in slight suspicion before following, allowing your eyes to wander around the walls, absorbing the decorations, the small homely touches he’d added—the graduations pictures, the keys hanging next to the broom stand, two framed burgundary ties with mustard yellow strips.

Two?

You were still in a state of curious admiration when the door infront of you swug open wildly with a vigour that made the hinges release a high pitch groan, almost immediately you were ingulfed in to warm clutch—feet lifted off the carpet and the world around you spun. The squeal of shock that left you was completely swallowed by the loud bellowing call of your name.

“Y/N!”

When you finally made contact with the floor again, leaning back to take a good look at your assailant, the largest grin split across your face—matching his enthusiasm and pulling him in to another tight, squeezing hug. “Jamie?!” Rocking side to side in his grasp, a laugh of disbelief bubbled through his chest—even when you seperate his hands moved to your cheeks, smooshing your face into a pout as you laughed.

“Where have you been, love?”

It had hardly even been three months since you last saw James, and he was still acting as if you had disappeared off the face of the earth. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks before he finally released you, though not without a playful shake of your shoulders.

“I swear, one minute you’re here, the next you’ve vanished into thin air! I was starting to think you’d moved to another bloody country,” James accused, though his grin never wavered.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew. “Three months, Potter. Hardly enough time to start missing me that much.”

James scoffed, dramatic as ever. “Three months too long, if you ask me.”

Remus stood not to far behind you, and as much as he was warmed by the scene that unfolded before him, a small sharp pang of something else shot through his chest, something ugly—something green. James made it look like it was the easiest thing in the world, pulling you back in, slotting you so effortlessly into the space you had once occupied in their lives.

James had always been good at that—at making people feel like they belonged, like no time had passed at all. But Remus…Remus wasn’t sure he had that same ability. Not with you. Not after everything.

His fingers twitched at his side, resisting the urge to reach for you. He watched the way you laughed, eyes crinkling as James animatedly retold some ridiculous story, and it should’ve made Remus feel nothing but comfort, ease. Instead, there was that pang again—the bitter discontent and regret tangled and settled uncomfortably beneath his ribs.

He couldn’t help but think back to the times when that would have been him, easily able to pull you close, not treading lightly around undisclosed boundaries and avoiding silences.

You’d all sat on their sofa together, eating dinner—thankful James still hadn’t mastered portion control, always making enough to feed the five thousand. It was pleasant, relaxed—unpressured conversation filling the room, time once again passing too quickly for his liking.

James let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head before slinging them back around both of you, pulling you in for one last quick squeeze. “Right, I’m off to bed,” ruffling your hair before turning to Remus with a lopsided smirk, “Have fun with the dishes, Moony,” he teased.

Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes as James trudged up the stairs, his footsteps heavy against the wood. The house settled into a softer quiet in his absence, the warm hum of the radio still playing faintly in the background.

You stood up abruptly, taking Remus’ plate with you on your rise, gathering the dishes on the coffee table, swiftly making your way into the kitchen. Remus followed behind, a tad bit too low to stop in your wordless flurries—as you surveyed the room he gently tried to pry the dishes from your grasp but you quickly pulled away, “At least let me help clean up. I did kind of barge in on dinner—”

Remus cut you off, frowning slightly. “You didn’t barge in. I invited you.”

But you were already brushing past him, stationing yourself at the sink as you rolled up your sleeves.

“Still,” you murmured, voice stubborn but gentle, “it’s the least I can do.”

Remus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, but didn’t argue further. Instead, he grabbed a clean dish towel and joined you, falling into place beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world. The lulling sound of water running, dishes clinking softly as you scrubbed and he dried, felt almost domestic, shoulders brushing together with each movement.

For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. Like time hadn’t stolen so much from you both.

And as he watched you, sleeves pushed up, hands covered in suds, brows furrowed slightly in concentration, something in his chest ached.

Because this—this quiet togetherness, this moment, this you—it burned him to think that it would eventually have to end.

The quiet hum of the radio faded into the background as your hands moved on autopilot, warm water running over your skin as you scrubbed a plate, mind drifting in the comfort of routine. You barely noticed the way Remus stared as he worked beside you, slipping into a rhythm that felt like you had done this a hundred times before.

You hissed, yanking your hand back as a bright bloom of crimson welled up along the curve of your palm.

“Shit—” His voice was sharp with concern, his body moving before his mind could catch up. Remus was on you in an instant, dish towel abandoned on the counter, forgotten, as he closed the space between you in a heartbeat. “Let me see.”

“It’s noth—”

But he had already reached for your wrist, his fingers curling around it, gentle but firm as he tilted your hand toward the dim light of the kitchen. The sting pulsed under your skin, warm and insistent, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch, the way his thumb brushed over the uninjured part of your palm in silent reassurance.

His brows furrowed as he studied the wound, jaw ticking. “It’s deep,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly before he exhaled sharply. “Come on, sit down. We need to clean it.”

You let yourself be led to the dining table, pulse thrumming a little too fast beneath your skin. Remus released your wrist only long enough to retrieve a first aid kit from the cupboard, and you sat there, suddenly hyperaware of the way your hand throbbed in time with your heartbeat. Mumbling out a small string of excuses littered with apologies, before he could even begin fussing over you.

When he returned, he knelt in front of you, one knee pressed to the floor, his free hand resting lightly against your knee for balance. His eyes flicked up to yours, filled with something exasperated but fond. “Are you seriously apologising for bleeding?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, heat creeping up your neck. “Well—no, but—”

His lips twitched, cutting you off before you could fumble out an excuse. His voice was low, unfairly gentle. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together as you dropped your gaze to where he was already tearing open an alcohol swab. He worked deftly, practiced and careful.

“This is going to sting,” he warned, glancing up at you briefly.

You took a slow, steadying breath, closing your eyes. “Okay.”

The antiseptic made contact, and you hissed, the sharp burn blooming across your palm.

Remus’ fingers tensed around yours, brows knitting together at the sound. “I know,” he murmured, voice softer now, soothing. “Almost done.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to relax as he continued, his thumb absentmindedly brushing slow, reassuring circles against your wrist. After a moment, he leaned back slightly, inspecting the wound with quiet concentration. “Not deep enough for stitches,” he murmured, reaching for the closure strips, “this’ll seal it to keep anything out.”

You watched him as he worked, your gaze tracing the furrow of his brows, the way his lips parted slightly in focus. He hummed softly under his breath—an old habit, one you hadn’t heard in so long it made something in your depths of your chest sting and squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were staring until his voice cut through the quiet.

“What?”

Your eyes flicked up to his, startled. “What?”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, and though he hadn’t stopped tending to your hand, you could feel the air around you thin slightly. “You’re staring,” he said simply.

You hesitated. The instinct to brush it off, to deflect, clawed up your spine—but instead, you inhaled, considering your words. The confession was quiet, airy—

“I just like looking at you.”

Remus’ fingers stilled over your palm, and you felt rather than saw the breath he sucked in. He didn’t move, didn’t speak for a long moment—just looked at you, something flickering behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, then, a quiet, disbelieving chuckle left him, breathy and low.

His hands, still warm against you, curled slightly against your knees as he tilted his head, something playful and teasing in his voice. “Do you now?”

Your lips parted slightly, and though your pulse was hammering against your ribs, you held his gaze. “I do.”

The words left you on an exhale, soft and breath—yet certain.

Disarming him completely, briging to the surface what he’d always pushed down, unravelling something Remus was always to fearful to face.

His fingers flexed, unconsciously pulling himself closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against heating surface of your skin. His eyes flickered to your lips—lingering—just for a moment, but you felt it, the hesitation, the war between thought and impulse. The space between you was dwindling, a mere breath away from closing entirely—

Then, the sound of near footsteps, the screeching of hinges.

Remus shot to his feet so fast it was almost comical, nearly knocked the first aid kit off the table, his face twisting into something like panic. The tips of his ears flushed pink, guilt flickering over his features like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

James stood in the doorway, frozen, a glass in his hand.

His eyes flicked between you and Remus, and his face twisted slightly in slow realization, when he muttered, “Shit—sorry, I just…came to get some water.”

Voice flat, mildly exasperated, as if he knew exactly what he had just interrupted. You swallowed hard, heart still lodged in your throat as James stepped around the room, deliberately avoiding eye contact as he filled his glass at the sink.

Remus ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, the tension still clinging to the air like static. “Yeah, no, it’s—uh—it’s fine.”

While you sat still in your seat, heart pounding, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the chair, James practically tiptoed around you both as if being quieter would make it any less painfully awkward.

Then, without another word, he left, water glass in hand.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

Remus let out a slow breath, still standing rigid beside you. You swallowed. Hand—still warm from his touch—lay limp in your lap. Your pulse still thrummed wildly beneath your skin. Clearing his throat, busying his hands and clearing the first aid kit, he mumbled something about getting to the dishes later.

You stood, looking around the room aimlessly—you both knew it, it was about time you left, made your way home.

But he wasn’t ready. You can’t leave, not yet.

Rubbing his palms forcibly on the surfcae of his trousers, wracking his brain for an excuse, a reason for you to stay, words to reset your time.

“Would you like to see the garden?”

He scolded himself internally, of all this he could blurt out, the garden was his best answer? There wasn’t even much to see—

“You have a garden?!” cutting his reprimanding monologue short with a small gasp, your words overflowing with enthusiasm that shocked him, purging some if the anxiety that had built in his shoulders. With a huffed chuckle Remus nodded, extending an arm to guide you through the house.

If there was one thing you missed about Hogwarts, it was without a doubt the endless view of the clear skies, the privilege of seeing the stars in all their beauty any time you wished—cloud free.

As you stepped though the sliding doors after him, another gasp slipped from your lips, Remus turned, watching you marvel at the skies, eyes wide with childlike wonder as you stepped further into the small patch of land.

The garden itself was modest, with a few well-tended plants lining the perimeter, a bench seated against the fence, but you hardly spared them a glance. Your gaze was locked skyward, drinking in the sprawling expanse of stars, their silver glow scattered like spilled ink across the inky blue.

Remus watched, momentarily forgetting himself, his lips quirking into something impossibly fond.

"You like the stars that much?" he asked, voice softer now, lower, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment.

You turned, beaming at him, an excitement so pure that it made his breath catch in his throat. "Are you kidding? It’s been ages since I’ve seen them properly like this." Your voice was full of quiet awe as you turned your gaze back upward, taking a few more steps into the cool grass.

"I used to sneak out to see them all the time at school, but it’s hard to find a good view in the city."

He swallowed, tucking his hands into his pockets, watching the way your face reflected the soft glow of the moon. He had brought you out here on impulse, desperate to keep you close, to not let you run away again. A cool breeze drifted through the night air, brushing loose strands of hair against your cheek, and without thinking, Remus reached forward, tucking them gently behind your ear.

You stilled.

The warmth of his fingers lingered against your skin, fleeting but unmistakable. You turned to him fully then, eyes searching his face, and the only thing he could hear was the loud thumpng of his heartbeat bouncing between his ears, throat bobbing as he swallowed, the hum of the world around you steadily fading away.

"You really love them, don’t you?" His voice was barely above a whisper now.

You nodded, gaze never leaving his. "Yeah," you murmured, smiling softly. "They make me feel small, like in a good way. Like...I’m part of something bigger."

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You always say things like that."

"Like what?"

He barely even hesitated—

"Things that make me realize how much I missed you.”

Remus could see the internal panic set in, flashing wildly behind your eyes, completely undeniable, so was the way your breath audibly hitched in your throat fingers twitching where they rested by your side.

The way he said it—automatic, definite, without fear of what it might mean—had all your heart threatening to pump right out of your chest and land on the floor beneath you. His voice, the quiet certainty in his tone, the way his gaze held yours without wavering—it was too much.

Your lips pressed into a tight line, as if to keep words from escaping you, as if it could stop everything from seeping through the cracks. Crumbling under the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words, the wanting his touch left in its wake.

His fingertips still ghosted over your skin, light yet burning, grounding yet unsteading—caught in the strange balance between too much and not enough. And though you were outside, it seemed there wasn’t enough air for you—each one of your senses overwhelmed with something distictly Remus.

You wanted to look away. Needed to. If you could just turn your head, break the moment, maybe then you could breathe properly, think again. Maybe then, the seconds wouldn’t feel so suffocating. But you couldn’t. You were frozen in place, trapped, imprisoned under his gaze—he was still, patient—searching, waiting.

The moments continued to stretch, until you finally parted you lips, exaling shallow and testing, as if you’d forgotten how to breath. Voice meek and quieter than you’d meant it to be.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,”

It was the truth. But only part of it.

The rest of the words died, heavy on your tongue, unwilling to be spoken aloud.

But it seemed easier that way. But that was the only way you knew how to survive.

That every time you saw him, it felt like pressing on an open wound, one that was so far away from healing, one that probably never would. But you didn’t say it. You couldn’t.

Remus hummed softly, and there was something knowing in the sound, something that made your stomach twist. He could see it—could feel it. That there was more. That there had always been more. And for so long, he had let it slide, let it slip through the cracks, let you get away with unfinished thoughts and lingering pauses, mystery and obsurity, silences that stretched too long between words.

But not this time.

His voice was steadier when he spoke again, pressing, “But?”

Your throat bobbed, struggling to swallow, fingers curling into your sleeves, curling into yourself as the temptation to look away won, eyes flickering down the the grass.

He tilted his head slightly, compelling your gaze onto him, studying your face with careful intent, reassuring, he was so close—one hand just barely ghosting over the fabric that rested over the dip in your waist, and the other’s palm pressed flush against the skin of your neck—spreading the heat that already prickled down your spine even further.

“It seemed easier,” the words trembled, breaking slightly at the end, and his brows pinched high on his brow at the raw cadance your voice took, but he still wouldn’t let you look away—forcing your presence in the moment, forcing you to not drift away, not again.

He knew what you meant, the words hung heavy in the air, bouncing and echoing in Remus’ brain over and over again, easier. Easier to allow the distance between you to build. Easier to fade away before his very eyes. Easier to just escape everything. Even if it did hollow you out.

His fingertips curled slightly where they rested, finally grasping on to you, palm warm against your waist, anchoring you, tethering you to him in a way that made escape impossible. Touch still cradling the side of your neck, firm but gentle, thumb running over your pulse, feeling it race beneath him.

Pursing his lips together, exhaling through his nose, the guilt in your eyes so clear to him, but he wasn’t satisfied, he wasn’t going to accept half truths anymore—you’d both already wasted so much time, he couldn’t stomach the idea of letting this go on any longer than it already had.

“Was it?”

The second the words left his lips and reached your ears, he could feel the way you tensed in his hold, your breath catching in your throat as though the very question had knocked the air from your lungs.

Your lips parted, a response forming—then hesitating, your voice failing you entirely. You swallowed thickly, gaze flickering over his face, searching for something—what, you didn’t know. A way out, maybe. A sign that he’d let it drop.

But he wouldn’t. Not this time.

His hand at your waist shifted, his fingers pressing gently into the fabric of your shirt, thumb tracing absent, soothing patterns against your side. He was patient, unyielding but never forceful, his grip warm, grounding. And the way he looked at you—soft, knowing, understanding in a way that made your chest ache—was so much. Too much.

Your lips moved soundlessly at first, as if your thoughts were warring with your voice, stuck somewhere deep in your throat. And he just waited, unwavering, unwavering in the way only Remus could be, the way that made you feel like there was nothing in the world except this moment.

Finally, you breathed out, “I—”

Then nothing.

You swallowed, throat dry, you weren’t sure you wanted to be here, standing in front of him with nowhere left to run, no more room to hide behind half-truths and evasions. Lips parting, then closing, then parting again, like the words were caught somewhere deep in your throat, tangled and knotted together, refusing to be spoken aloud.

“You… you were happy,” you murmured, voice trembling, like you were forcing the words out through a tight throat. Your fingers twitched against the fabric of his sweater, eyes darting away. “It just made sense—”

His head shook before you could even finish.

No.

He knew you were skirting around it. Knew you’d try to twist the truth, try to say just enough without saying anything at all, try to dance around the edges of what you really meant, as if that would be enough. As if he would let it be enough.

He wouldn’t let you. Not now.

The words came haltingly, breaking as they stumbled out of you. The effort of articulating the truth left you trembling, and as soon as the words left your lips, you instinctively broke eye contact, unable to bear it any longer. But Remus would not let you drift away.

"No, no, no, no—" The words were quiet, but firm, insistent. His hands moved then, slipping from your waist to your face, cradling it so delicately, so reverently, like you might shatter if he wasn’t careful. "Look—look at me…please," his eyes searching yours with an urgency that made your pulse race. Touch steadying you, and despite the tremor in your body, you found yourself listening, unable to look away.

“Was it easier?" he asked again, his voice low and sympathetic, each word a gentle command that left little room for evasion.

You knew it. He knew it.

But saying it—admitting it—felt like standing at the edge of something bottomless, staring down at the unknown.

In the quiet that followed, your eyes became glossy with tears as you shook your head slowly, once, twice, until you couldn’t stand it, everything just too much to contain, eyes squeezing shut.

Remus's thumb came up to gently wipe away the wet drops from the corners of your eyes, his touch both tender and apologetic. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours. Voice, soft and laden with tenderness, that made the surface of your skin prickle, breaking through the silence once more.

"I know,"

That single word, conveyed all the unspoken emotions that had built up between you—the ache of separation, the pain of absence, the desperate hope and longing that you’d both let fester for too long.

You struggled to breathe, each inhalation more shallow and shuddering than the last, your lips trembling as you fought to contain the bubbling sobs. The sight made the depths of his stomach churn with concern.

The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and wisps of his hair skimmed the surface of your cheeks as he let his hand slip down to pull you closer, his palm rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. He coaxed your ragged breaths into a steadier rhythm, his voice just above a whisper and lulling as he murmured—

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, love.” softer, like he was absorbing the ache from your chest into his own.

You clenched your hands into the fabric of his shirt, gripping so tightly your knuckles ached, like if you let go, you might lose yourself completely.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching the last remnants of your tears, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, neither of you moved. You could feel his heartbeat—fast, unsteady, as if it was caught in the same whirlwind you were. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, eyes searching yours for something—hesitation, permission, an answer to a question he hadn’t spoken aloud.

Remus’ lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but no words came—just a slow exhale, like he was finally letting himself from getting lost in you.

Closing the gap, his lips ghosting, shy—testing over yours.

So you leaned into him instead, letting yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, into the way his fingers curled slightly against your jaw as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. It was slow, unhurried, like a quiet confession in itself—one that had been waiting far too long to be spoken. The weight of unsaid words, of time lost and wounds left open, all melted away in the spaces where your lips met, where his hands held you like you were something precious, something he was terrified to let slip through his fingers again.

His thumb traced delicate patterns against your cheek, a stark contrast to the quiet urgency with which he kissed you, as if trying to make up for every moment he had spent holding himself back. Your fingers, still trembling from the unraveling of emotion just moments before, found their way into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him, grounding yourself in something tangible. He sighed against your lips, the sound reverberating through your bones, pulling you deeper into him, into this fleeting eternity you had both fallen into.

Finally able to bask in each other, in the way your breaths tangled between kisses, in the way his hands pulled you closer without hesitation—no more space, no more running. Just this. Just you and him.

The world outside of this moment ceased to exist, the weight of time and consequence nothing more than a whisper against the night air. Two entwined souls that had the fortune to overlap at this singular moment in time, comfortable, peaceful—fated.

[aureliqs]

So so comforting !!!

Hi, I absolutely love your writing and i’d thought i’d try to request a remus lupin x reader kinda hurt comfort fic or blurb? Reader comes from a dysfunctional family where her dads alway angry and she feels like she’s walking on egg shells when around him and her mom throws all responsibilities like taking care of younger sibling onto reader so they always feel like they aren’t doing enough and they kind of cary these traits into their relationship with remus? maybe remus comes home from a hard day at work and reader can immediately sense he’s in a bad mood and like gets really quiet and starts working on the house instead of spending time with him bc she thinks he will be mad or something

This was way longer than i intended it to be im sorry😭 and I totally understand if this was too much or a topic that you don’t wanna write about there is no pressure at all!!!

love ya! -anon

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: implied past harmful/abusive dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 849 words

If the sharp turn of his key in the lock didn’t tip you off to Remus’ mood, the way he shuts the door behind him would. Automatically, your mind starts whirring with the things you can do. 

Your boyfriend has barely taken his shoes off before you’re in the kitchen, unloading the overfull dish rack. You’ve no idea how you let it go this long; some of these things have been dry for days. You’re shutting drawers and cabinets as softly as you can, wary of worsening Remus’ irritation with a racket. 

“Hey.” He pads into the kitchen, reaching for you. 

“Hi.” You smile and give him a kiss. His hands start to come around your waist, but you pull away in favor of grabbing a pot from the rack. 

“What’re you up to?” he asks. The exhaustion in his voice has a terse edge that makes your fingertips crackle with nervous energy. 

“Just tidying a bit.” 

“Want some help?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply in your most serene voice. “You’ve only just got home, why don’t you relax?” 

Remus hesitates a handful of moments, watching as you go back to whizzing about the kitchen before wordlessly retreating to the living room. 

Once the dish rack is empty, you decide to start filling it up again. There’s an unwashed pot on the stove, an old container of leftovers in the fridge, and a handful of dishes on the coffee table. You make yourself as scarce as you can when you go to retrieve the last. Remus is still emanating traces of a worn-thin temper from where he sits on the couch, reading his book, and you try to minimize the clatter of the dishes as you stack them. When there’s a sigh, you try even harder. 

“Would you stop for a second?” 

You freeze in your tracks. “Stop what?” 

“Just,” he shakes his head, frustrated, “put the dishes down.”

You obey wordlessly. 

Remus looks at you with something you can’t decipher in his expression. “Now would you come here, please?” 

You walk over to him, tensing for—you don’t know what. You don’t think Remus would hit you, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to shout. You’re stiff with anticipation nonetheless. 

He reaches for you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slotting against him naturally, the way you always do. Remus presses both palms into your back, hugging you tighter than usual but not enough to hurt. 

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “What’s going on with you?” he asks, and he sounds like the soft, grumbly version of himself that tells you to stop fidgeting at 4 a.m. before trapping you in his hold. You start to relax. 

“You seem like you’ve had a hard day,” you say. Not quite an admittance, but close. 

“I have,” Remus agrees. “I was hoping to come home and relax with you. Maybe have a kiss if you were feeling generous.” His teasing comforts you further, and you don’t flinch when he adjusts his hold so he can look you in the eyes. “Are you being weird because you know I’m in a bad mood?” 

When he puts it like that it sounds so silly. This is how you’ve learned to be around hot tempers, quiet and useful, but of course Remus would want someone to console him. To be with him instead of hiding away. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out. Your hands smooth over his shoulders, a belated comfort. 

He sighs, and this time when you hear the frustration in the sound you know it’s not meant for you. Remus takes your face in both hands, pressing a firm kiss to your brow before resting his own against it. 

“Nobody’s angry with you,” he says softly. 

“I know,” you reply just as quietly. “If I think about it, I know you wouldn’t be. It’s just…” 

“Old habits die hard?” he guesses. There’s a wry twist to his tone. 

You hum apologetically. 

Remus lets his cheek slide along yours, pulling you in for another hug. This one is gentler, his hand running the length of your back and squeezing in all the right places. “It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I’m sorry I came home so cross, sweetheart. I never want to worry you.” 

“I like to worry about you a little,” you tease, and you can sense the reward of your boyfriend’s smile spreading unwillingly over your shoulder. “And it’s not fair to expect you not to have any bad feelings around me. That’s just normal.”

Remus hums thoughtfully. “What if we try this: when you’re feeling like I’m upset, you just say something and we’ll talk about whether it has anything to do with you. Do you think that would work for you?” 

You turn your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Remus’ palm cruises down the curve of your spine as you let out a breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks.” 

“Thank you, lovely.” He tucks his chin to skim a kiss over your temple. “This is just what I needed. I feel better already.”

[aureliqs]

Adorable!!!

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part three

part two ←

summary: Finally, the long-awaited date with Remus had arrived, and it turn out perfect.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: just a lot of flufff

wc: 2,6k

a/n: I’m so proud of this chapter, because I was feeling like my writers block was kicking me again tbh, so I hope you will like it, enjoy!

The Friday afternoon sun dipped slightly over the horizon, casting a golden hue on everything it touched. The warmth of the light filtered through the airy curtains of your living room, setting a serene ambiance that contrasted with the nervous flutters in your stomach. As you pulled on your favorite pair of jeans, memories from earlier in the week flashed through your mind. Molly had been thrilled with her school project, a heartfelt painting, and how Remus had been encouraging and excited as she was.

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, taking a deep breath. It's just coffee, you reminded yourself. But the voice inside you, the one protective of Molly, wary of opening up to anyone again, whispered, that it’s more than that.

Seven years. Seven years since the man you'd trusted shattered your heart and left you alone to pick up the pieces, forcing you to build walls around your heart. Since then, Molly had been your universe, your prime focus. Dates seemed like a distant memory, almost another lifetime's activities, until a certain teacher of your daughter changed it all.

His casual yet earnest invitation had awoken emotions you'd buried deep, kindling both excitement and anxiety. You glanced at the clock – fifteen more minutes. Better get moving.

The café Remus mentioned was quaint and charming, with an old-world vibe. Fairy lights hung from its wooden beams, casting a soft glow, creating an intimate setting. As you pushed through the door, a gentle bell tinkled above you, and the familiar rich aroma of coffee beans wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The ambiance was cozy, with clusters of small tables and plush chairs arranged to encourage quiet conversation.

You spotted Remus almost immediately. He was seated at a corner table, his back straight, glancing through the window with a thoughtful gaze. Today, he wore a simple yet well-fitted navy shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the same watch you noticed in his classroom. His hair, as winter-brown as autumn leaves, framed his face in soft waves. When his eyes found yours, a warm smile spread across his features, and he stood up to greet you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice like a balm to your jittery nerves. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Hi, Remus,” you replied, returning his smile with a slightly shaky one of your own. His genuine warmth made you feel more at ease. He pulled out your chair for you, a gesture that seemed both old-fashioned and remarkably sweet, but it made you blush, of course.

As you settled in, a waitress approached with menus, and you both ordered coffee. You opted for a lavender cappuccino, while Remus went for an americano. The initial awkwardness of meeting someone new began to melt away as the conversation started flowing.

“So, how has your week been?” Remus asked, his eyes sincere and attentive.

You sighed lightly, thinking of the everyday hustle and bustle that defined your life. “Busy, as usual. Work, school runs, helping Molly with her homework. It’s never a dull moment,” you said with a soft chuckle. “How about you? I already know that teaching a bunch of energetic kids must be quite the challenge.” The corners of your mouth turned up, as you gave him a small smile.

Remus laughed, a rich, warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “Oh, definitely. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Every day is different, and the kids have such unique personalities. Plus, they keep me on my toes, so I’m definitely not bored.” He chuckled, and you noticed that his eyes wrinkled.

It was cute.

The waitress returned with your coffees, and you both took a moment to savor the first sips. The rich, velvety taste of the cappuccino was exactly what you needed to calm your nerves.

“So, Molly seems really happy in your class. She talks about you quite a bit,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Does she now?” Remus replied, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. “She’s a wonderful kid. Very bright and kind-hearted, it’s good that she talks a lot too. You’ve done an amazing job raising her.” He took a small sip of his hot coffee while not taking his eyes off of yours.

A surge of warmth spread through you at his compliment. “Thank you. She’s my world. I want to be the best for her.” Your shy smile filled his stomach with butterflies.

The conversation flowed easily after that, touching on various topics. Remus shared amusing stories about his childhood, growing up with a love for books and nature, and how he eventually found his calling in teaching. You found yourself drawn to his passion and sincerity. He, in turn, seemed genuinely interested in your life, asking questions about your work and about your experiences raising Molly. The more you talked, the more relaxed and connected you felt. It was as if all the years of guarding your heart had melted away in the presence of this kind, thoughtful man he was.

“And what about hobbies?” Remus asked, leaning forward a bit. “Do you have any time for yourself with such a busy schedule?” He gave you a smirk.

You laughed softly, a sound that came easier now. “Not as much as I’d like, but I try to carve out some time. I love reading, mostly when Molly’s asleep. And I enjoy baking. It’s therapeutic.”

“Oh, baking!” Remus exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. “What’s your specialty?”

“Cookies, mostly. Molly loves helping me, and it’s always fun for her. Plus, they make the house smell amazing,” you replied, a hint of pride in your voice.

“I’d love to try them sometime,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling with interest. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Well, if you play your cards right,” you said with a playful smile, “I might just bring you a batch.”

The light-hearted banter continued, and you began to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. Remus wasn’t just a charming man; he was genuinely considerate, compassionate, and someone who seemed to understand the complexities of your life without you having to explain every detail.

As the conversation naturally ebbed and flowed, you found yourself sharing stories and laughter more freely, almost forgetting the initial nervousness that had gripped you at the start. There was a connection growing, a gentle intertwining of shared experiences and mutual respect.

At one point, the topic shifted to music, and Remus's eyes lit up as he talked about his love for old records and vinyl collections. “There’s something about the sound quality of a record,” he said, his hands animated as he spoke, “It's like it captures the soul of the music.”

You nodded, feeling a similar passion. “I completely agree. My dad used to have a huge collection. We spent many Sundays together, listening to everything from classic rock to jazz. Those are some of my favorite memories.” You smiled at the memory of your dad playing his favourite records after work.

Remus leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “We should have a listening session sometime. I have a small collection myself. Maybe we can trade favorites?”

The idea filled you with warmth. Spending more time in Remus’s company felt like peeling away layers of guardedness you’d wrapped yourself in for so long. “That sounds wonderful,” you replied. “I’d like that a lot.” You chuckled.

As the hours passed, the café began to fill up with the evening crowd, but it felt like you and Remus were in your own little world. Eventually, you noticed the time and realized how late it had gotten. Neither of you wanted the night to end, but you knew you had responsibilities waiting at home.

“I should probably get going.” said reluctantly, glancing at your watch. “My friend stayed with Molly, and the time flowed so quickly.” You looked out the window, and the sun was already setting.

Remus’s expression softened with understanding, though there was a glint of disappointment in his eyes. “Of course. I didn’t noticed too, to be honest.” He quickly gathered up your things and payed the waitress, both of you standing up from the table. As you gathered your things, Remus walked with you to the door, holding it open for you like a perfect gentleman. The sun had set by now, and the evening air was crisp and cool. Streetlights cast a warm glow on the cobblestone paths as you stepped outside.

You reached for your coat, pulling it tighter around your frame as a gentle breeze blew. The evening air was cool and crisp, the gentle whisper of the wind cutting through the night. The streetlights on either side of the cobblestone path cast warm, gold-hued light.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” Remus stopped you by gently tugging your arm, a hopeful note in his voice. “I’d like to make sure you get there safely.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you considered his words. The thought of spending more time with him appealed to you, and you were touched by his concern for your safety. After a brief pause, you responded, "Yeah, sure. If you’d like me to." It was something you weren’t accustomed to experiencing.

Remus and you continued your walk through the peaceful streets as night fully set in. Darkness enveloped you both, but he’s company provided an unexpected comfort, his low voice and soft laughs acting like a soothing balm, diminishing any lingering worry. As you strolled together, your hands hovered close to each other, occasionally brushing against one another, creating a silent connection between you two.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Remus said, glancing sideways at you. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this.” He confessed

“What, going on a date? ,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly. The thought of him enjoying your company warmed you from the inside out. “ I haven’t done something like this in years, to be honest. Not sure you’d beat me.” You joked.

Remus looked down at you, a small smile on his lips. "Come on, that's not true," he said, his voice soft and low. "You're way too gorgeous to be on your own all the time.” His words came out in a whisper, a gentle declaration that held a hint of a hidden confession.

A hot flush crawled up your face as he spoke, you found yourself unable to control the smile that spread across your lips. Hoping he wouldn't notice your reaction, you quickly turned your head away, averting your gaze to hide your delighted expression.

Your heart fluttered as he nudged gently into your side, coaxing you to look at him. As soon as you raised your gaze to meet his, you noticed something different in his eyes. There was an undertone in his expression, something that revealed more than just friendly interest.

Remus leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper, meant for your ears only. He looked at you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine as he spoke, his words low and serious. "I mean it," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "You really are beautiful, Y/N. You're incredible."

The conversation drifted into comfortable silence as you strolled, each step bringing you closer to your home and to a moment that both of you felt was inevitable. Remus’s mind whirled with thoughts and emotions. He had been drawn to you the moment he first saw you, but now, having shared this evening with you, he realized it was more than a fleeting attraction. There was something genuine between you two, something worth exploring.

As you approached your house, you could feel a mixture of warmth and nervous energy building up. When you finally reached your front door, you turned to face Remus, the porch light casting a soft glow over you both.

“Thank you for tonight, Remus,” you said, feeling shy but happy. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too.” he replied, taking a small step closer. The space between you seemed to shrink, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I—well, I wanted to say something…”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and curious. The moment felt charged, as though the world had paused around you, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of anticipation.

Remus cleared his throat, his nerves getting the better of him for a brief moment. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N, and I hope we can do this again sometime.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I’d like that very much, Remus.”

He took a deep breath, feeling a surge of courage. This was the moment he had been wanting all evening. As he stepped closer, his hand reached up gently to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. The touch was tender, sending a shiver through you.

“Y/N, can I…” he trailed off, not quite finishing his sentence, his eyes locking with yours, full of unspoken questions and palpable sincerity.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded slightly, giving him permission without words. Remus leaned in slowly, his hesitation clear as he tried to gauge your comfort. But instead of kissing your lips, which he so desperately wanted to do, he decided to start with something softer, something gentle.

His lips brushed against your cheek, a feather-light touch that held all the sweetness and warmth he felt. The kiss was brief but meaningful, lingering in its own delicate way. When he pulled back, you saw that his cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, his eyes searching yours, hoping for a positive reaction.

You felt a warmth spread through you and your heartbeat quickened. That simple, tender kiss had somehow meant so much more. You shyly averted your gaze for a moment, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, again, it was the best night I’ve had in a while” you whispered, your voice filled with genuine appreciation and a hint of bashfulness. “And that was really sweet of you.” You glanced at your boots.

There was a visible tension in Remus’s body before he let out a long breath, his relief showing in the wide smile on his lips. "I wouldn’t have had it any other way, dove.” he confessed, a warm, affectionate smile lighting up his features, but the nickname that rolled off his tongue, stirred something inside you. It was a feeling you thought you hadn't experienced for the longest time. His voice, his presence, and the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, causing your knees to almost give out beneath you.

You stood there for another moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the evening. Finally, you took a small step back towards your door. “I should get inside. Molly’s probably waiting for me.”

Remus nodded, though he looked reluctant to see you go. “Of course. Have a good night, you two. And thank you for tonight, it was wonderful to get to know you.”

You returned his smile, warmth and contentment spreading through you as you unlocked your door. “Good night, Remus. Take care.”

With that, you stepped inside, closing the door gently behind you. The house was quiet save for the soft sounds of the night outside. As you leaned against the door for a moment, replaying the evening in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotion. The walls you had carefully built around your heart felt just a little less imposing tonight.

You sighed contently, then moved towards Molly’s room to check on her. Finding her sound asleep, curled up with her favorite stuffed animal, brought a smile to your face. You gently stroked her hair, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. The peace you felt in that moment was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

taglist:

@idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[aureliqs]

So cute !

“warming their hands by slipping them up the other’s shirt and onto their back/stomach” with tasm peter would be soo cute bc hed be like 😑😐must u do this to me jokingly but then would wrap his around around reader and squeeze them to warm them up

there's only dim light left by the time you and peter tuck yourselves into bed - you're not sure the city is capable of ever going completely dark.

you're cold. someone, you or peter, hadn't quite shut the window all the way earlier and the post-sundown chill had crept into your room.

peter's like a radiator with the way he constantly emits heat. he'll tease you sometimes, pressing his warm hands against your already too-warm skin.

but it's you who seeks him out now, hands maneuvering under the cooled duvet and past peter's old midtown shirt until you've reached your target.

peter whines but doesn't recoil, hands quick to come up over yours. he doesn't stop your movement and can't do much to fight the goosebumps you give him, his fingers falling off yours. your touch is icy as you move from his stomach to his sides, chasing the warmth you seem to be driving away.

"c'mere," peter whispers, placing your hands on his back and pulling you in close. his arms wrap around your body, thumbs rubbing your exposed arms. "you're freezing," peter mumbles, pulling the covers up to your chin.

you grumble into his chest, eyelids already getting heavy in peter's hold.

"i've got you," peter might've whispered - but in your hazy state, you couldn't be positive. you're definitely warm now - from the inside out as peter's hands rubbing up and down your arms lull you to sleep.

peter is your own personal heater but he doesn't seem to mind much.

part of v's 1000 follower celebration | main masterlist

[aureliqs]

So so so so adorable !!!

over the influence — remus lupin x reader

summary: remus lupin is not your boyfriend, but he sure knows how to act like he is.

contains: friends to lovers, friends trying really hard to be lovers, fluff, mutual pining, lovesick oblivious remus, drunk!reader, modern!au, rugby!james cw implied fem!reader, reader wears a skirt, alcohol consumption.

note: um welcome to my first ever remus fic!? if I’m being honest I have no idea if it’s good but I’m posting it anyway yolo

fem!reader 2.9k words

You’re plastered when Remus finds you. Absolutely hammered.

He can tell because you’re giggling madly at one of Sirius’s jokes, which you never do, because Sirius’s jokes are awful and you thankfully have a good sense of humour. But, you’re a giggly drunk, who finds just about anything anyone says absolutely hilarious. It’s adorable, usually. But right now, it’s blowing Sirius’s ego out of the water.

Remus dives in to save you as Sirius roars with laughter at his own joke.

“Dove,” he says, clasping your shoulder. You’re slumped into the sofa, your head lolling against the cushions. “There you are.”

You twist to look who it is, your face all scrunched up as you take him in. You blink very slowly. Then, just as slow, your face lights up.

“Remus!” You gasp happily. “Hi, baby. I was wondering where you went!”

Baby. Remus’s face burns and his heart does a triple backflip. You’re drunk, he reasons. Super drunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, bending at the waist so you can hear him better. It’s loud, the music and the people and Sirius, especially.

“I’m perfect,” you say, words all slurry and sticky and ending in a sort of ditzy hiccup.

Well, you’re not wrong about that. Remus takes the seat next to you and your droopy eyes follow him down.

“How much have you had to drink?” Remus asks, trying for curious but coming out a bit concerned. “What did you even drink?”

You shrug and hiccup again. “I don’t know.” Your shoulders drop and so do your lips, a sort of confused frown washing over your features. “Sirius made me some weird concoction … it was kinda gross, Rem.” You look at Remus very seriously, your eyelids low. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Remus laughs and pretends to zip his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me, babe.”

Chances are it’s not, and Remus will mock Sirius about it endlessly. Not tonight, though. Tonight he’s mainly focused on making sure you don’t touch another cup of anything other than water.

You’re giggling again, though Remus isn’t sure what at. You’re just gazing at him and giggling your head off like a maniac.

“What’s so funny, pretty?” He asks fondly, a grin tugging at his lips. He knows you don’t have a chance of remembering any of this by tomorrow morning. Hence the pet names.

You stop laughing abruptly. It’s alarming and then not, because your big grin stays put. You lean in close, your chest pressing into his side. Remus smells all your smells, your perfume and your hairspray and the mystery drink you’ve definitely had too much of.

“You’re pretty,” you say, completely ignoring his question.

Remus flushes. You’re never this forward. It’s driving him nuts, the way you’re looking at him. How close you are. The way your scents wash over him and make him feel almost as drunk as you are.

“Whatever you say,” he says, brushing off your compliment because what the hell is he supposed to say to that? “I think you need some water.”

Remus gets up but you catch his wrist before he’s fully standing, your soft fingers pressing into his skin.

“Wait, don’t leave!” You sound desperate and you look the part, too. Your pretty eyes are blown wide as saucers.

Remus falters. “I’ll be five seconds, dove. M’just getting you a glass of water.”

You pout in such a way that makes Remus want to kiss you silly. “Take me with you, then?”

Remus finds he physically cannot say no to that look. He hauls you up by the forearm and you cling happily to his arm. Remus makes his way to the kitchen with you attached to his arm like a barnacle, your fingers pressing into the crook of his elbow, your thigh brushing his as you walk far too close to him. It’s dizzying, and Remus is surprised he’s managing to walk in a straight line.

In the kitchen, it’s much quieter but you’re not any less drunk. You detach yourself from Remus and skip over to the kitchen island. Before Remus can stop you you’re hauling yourself up onto the bench, so unsteady on your feet that you almost topple right off. Remus catches you by the elbow just before disaster strikes.

“Oops,” you giggle, breathless and totally out of your mind. “Sorry.”

Remus’s heart stops racing with worry and instead races with infatuation with you. Even in your drunken state.

“S’fine,” he says kindly, patiently, because you’re too sweet for your own good. You almost went toppling to your demise and you’re apologizing. “Just be careful. Please.”

You nod and sit pretty while Remus retrieves a glass and fills it with cold water from the fridge. When he turns back you’re making grabby hands for the glass. Remus looks at you, your wobbly state and your clumsy hands, and holds the condensation-ridden glass closer to his chest.

You pout and drop your arms. “Remus.”

“You’ll drop it, honey,” he says, as kindly as he can without sounding like he’s babying you. He is babying you, actually. Not that he’s gonna tell you that. “Let me.”

You let him. He brings one hand to rest at the small of your back, his fingers brushing the strip of skin just shy of your skirt’s waistband. He tries not to think about it as he brings the glass to your lips.

You drink like you’ve been stuck in a desert for six days, gulping like your life depends on it. Remus is grinning fondly until you finish and dip your head backwards. Your neck is bared to the kitchen lights and your chest is heaving dramatically, and Remus feels so lightheaded he actually has to grab the counter.

You notice, because of course you do, even in your tipsy state. You frown and put your hand on Remus’s where it’s gripping the counter for dear life.

“Remus? Are you okay?”

Remus blinks rapidly, hitches a grin onto his face. “I’m fine,” he says, fake grin at work. “Do you want more water?”

You think about it for a second. Then you look at Remus like you’re about to deliver the worst news of his life. “I need to pee,” you say solemnly.

Remus almost laughs. Almost. “Well, c’mon then.” He sets your empty glass down and grabs your forearm. “I’ll get one of the girls to take you.”

“No!” You say desperately. You throw your arms around Remus’s neck and tug him into you, and Remus is so startled he doesn’t have time to think about how close you are. You push your face into his neck. “No,” you say again, quieter this time. “I don’t want them to look after me. I want you.”

Your closeness catches up with Remus in a rush of heat all over his body. Your thighs press into his sides and your arms are like a vice around his neck. His heart thrums and his chest burns and it takes him a while to figure out what he’s saying.

“Dove,” he says gently. He pries himself off of you, albeit reluctantly, and puts his hands over your biceps, squeezing lightly. “I can’t take you to the bathroom.”

You frown. “Why not?”

Remus stutters. “Well, because. I’m- I’m not—”

“Please?” You beg, looking awfully cute when you clasp your hands together between yours and Remus’s chests. “You can just stand outside the door and wait. I’ll be fine.”

Half of Remus thinks it’s a bad idea, you might trip on your own feet and whack your head on the bathtub. The other half of him can’t ever say no to you, not even when what you’re proposing is totally dangerous and an awful idea. He’s not exactly proud of himself when he nods.

“Yeah, alright then,” he says, and you beam. “Come on.”

Remus ends up looking after you for the remainder of the night, you’re so drunk. He drives you home not long after your bathroom break. Sobers you up with some tea which you barely touch, and more cold water which you skull like you’ve been deprived of it for days.

He deposits you in your bed and you’re already half asleep by the time he does it, but you manage a sleepy, “Thank you,” that’s so sweet Remus feels his chest ache. He leaves you fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, ignores the urge to crash on your couch, and double checks he’s locked your doors on the way out.

Not that anyone’s asking, but he’s maybe just had the best night of his life.

-

Remus gets a call from you the next day and his heart skips. He thinks, stupidly, that maybe you’ve decided you hate him after last night. He picks it up anyway, because he misses you.

“Remus,” you say, as soon as the phone’s on his ear. You sound somewhat anguished. “Was I awful last night?”

He laughs, surprised. “What?”

“Was I awful to look after?” You ask like it’s obvious. “I barely remember anything. James said I was clinging to you for half the night.” You’re moaning like it’s a bad thing. For Remus it wasn’t. “And I’m sure I said some weird shit, I was so loopy off that stupid drink Siri gave me. I—”

Remus saves you before you fall into a self-deprecating waffle.

“Y/N,” he interrupts your rambling. “What’s gotten into you, dove? You were fine. It was fine.” I like looking after you, he doesn’t say.

“But—”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Remus tries not to laugh because you are being ridiculous, but you also really do sound quite worked up about it. “It’s fine. I wasn’t about to leave you to the crows.”

You giggle, thankfully. When you speak again you sound much happier. “‘The crows’ as in Sirius?”

Remus snorts. “Yeah. The crows as in Sirius. I think I’ll have a word with him about the drinks he passes around.”

You huff, and Remus can picture your pout. “Please do. I’m never drinking with him again.”

Remus laughs, a mixture of amusement and fondness and agreement. You’re much more yourself this morning, perky and a little dramatic and a bit of an over-thinker. Though admittedly, Remus didn’t mind loopy you last night.

“Are you going to James’s game tonight?” You ask, a smile evident in your voice.

Remus snaps out of his lovelorness long enough to reply, “Are you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“‘Cos I’m only going if you’re going.”

You laugh loud and the heat in Remus’s cheeks only grows. He loves making you laugh more than he’d like to admit.

“That’s mean, Remus,” you scold, with less heat than a block of ice. “Don’t you want to support your friend?”

“Friend isn’t really the right word,” Remus jokes. He’s happy to make you laugh at James’s expense. He’s sure James can take it.

You laugh again, and Remus knows you know he means it jokingly.

You’re still giggling when you talk again, breathless and adorable. “Alright, well. Would you mind picking me up?”

Remus agrees far too quickly to be normal, with far too much eagerness. He gets off the phone after agreeing on a time to pick you up, and knows he’s a total goner.

-

Remus isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your friend. And yet here you are, sitting very close to him in the stadium stands while you watch James’s rugby game. Only last night, he’d looked after you and driven you home when you got too tipsy. He’d also, at your request, given you a ride here, telling you all the while that you were the only reason he’s coming to the game at all. So maybe he’s closer to being your boyfriend than you think.

You watch James score a try and your row of seats erupts into cheers, Lily’s the loudest. The big screen above the field shows the camera panning to a close up of James. He whoops and pounds his fists in the air and blows a big smacking kiss in the general direction of your group of friends.

“He’s such a show off,” Remus drawls into your ear. You can hear him smiling.

You giggle and twist in your seat so you can look at him. He looks extraordinarily pretty tonight, in dark brown pants and a forest green t-shirt, his dark hair (in need of a cut) windswept and going in every direction possible. You want to kiss him so bad your chest burns. On the way here, he’d had his hand on your thigh for half the drive and you didn’t say a word the entire time. You think maybe you’re unhealthily obsessed with him.

“What?” Remus asks curiously, lips parted, and you realise you’ve been staring too long.

Heat washes over your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

“Have I got something on my face? You’re staring at me like I’ve grown two heads.”

The way he says it is like he knows exactly why you were staring at him. Desperate for an escape, you stand before you even know what you’re doing.

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” you declare to your friends in general. You purposefully avoid looking at Remus, afraid you’ll keel over and die. “Anyone want more?”

You get a few yes’s and one “I’m coming,” from Remus, which completely ruins the point. You’d tell him so but that would mean admitting you’re sickeningly obsessed with him. You allow him to tag along.

Sirius gives you a look as you leave with Remus, eyebrows raised like he knows exactly how much you like his friend. You’re sure he does. He doesn’t miss much, that boy. And he’s been giving you looks ever since you arrived. You flip him off behind Remus’s back.

Once at the popcorn stand, Remus insists on paying. It’s irritating, really, how sweet he is.

“Remus,” you groan, swatting his wallet away. “I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, dove,” he says. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

And he gives you a smile so staggering that you let him pay for the popcorn. You’re still grumbling about it on the way back to your seats.

“You’re too nice,” you tell him, plonking down in your seat with a frown. “Stop being so nice, I’m sick of it.”

Remus laughs, really laughs, the kind that has you fighting a smile even though you’re annoyed at him. He’s got a lovely laugh.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding the opposite. He’s got a smarmy grin on his mouth, all teeth. You’d pummel him if he wasn’t so pretty. “Do you want me to be mean instead?”

You glare. “You’re mean to everyone else,” you say, which is entirely true and you both know it. He wouldn’t look after a drunk Sirius like he did you if his life depended on it.

To your surprise, Remus flushes. “Well, I—“

He’s interrupted by a yell of his name from Sirius, and then you realise they’re all calling your name, too. Shouts of “Remus!” and “Y/N!” and “Look!”

You twist in your seat, confused.

“What—?”

And then you see it. The kiss cam is on the big screen, colours and words blazing. And just your luck, it’s your face blown up ten times as big on the screen, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you stare back at yourself, caught mid-sentence. You think maybe you’re dreaming, because right next to your face is Remus’s. He’s just as shocked as you.

You turn to look at the real Remus, just as he turns to look at you. Your friends are having a field day, shouting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You ignore them.

“I …” You’re not sure what to say, your mouth filling with nothing but silence. You want badly to kiss him. You’ve always wanted to kiss him, and you think everyone but Remus knows it.

“We don’t have to,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for unwillingness. “It’s just a stupid kiss cam.”

But you do have to, because he’s Remus, and maybe this stupid kiss cam is the only chance you’re ever gonna get. You swallow the nerves that are building up in your throat and ignore the fact that Sirius is practically screaming at the two of you from three seats down.

“I want to,” you say quietly, too quietly, and Remus doesn’t hear you over the hubbub. So you try again. “I want to.”

Remus goes very still, his lips parted and his chest heaving. Suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you. He stares at you like you’re made of gold and your heart does somersaults.

Then he smiles. “Me too.”

He brings his hand to your jaw and you barely have time to bask in his touch before he’s kissing you. Really kissing you. He tastes like butter and sugar and he smells exactly like he always does. His hands are soft but sure where they cup your face and your chest is on fire, your heart is punching and kicking and you worry you might pass out in his arms you’re so giddy.

Your friends are screaming bloody murder, Sirius the worst of them all, and you’re sure the kiss cam has probably panned away from you by now but you can’t stop kissing him. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you can’t breathe anymore. You’d go on forever but you’re losing breath and you really do think you’re lightheaded now.

You pull away before you pass out from lack of oxygen. Remus looks as frazzled as you feel, pink in the cheeks and his lips all swollen and his eyes are bright and burning and holy shit, you just want to kiss him again.

You almost do, but then Sirius and Frank and Lily appear and clap your backs, shout words you can barely hear and Sirius is so happy he looks like he might burst into tears. You laugh, half-delirious and sick as a dog in love with Remus, and somehow your hands end up tangled with his in his lap and your thigh is crushing his and he’s looking at you like he wants to kiss you again.

Lucky you, he does kiss you again. And many more times after that, no kiss cam needed.

thank you for reading! feedback & reblogs are appreciated 🤍

[aureliqs]

Ahhhhh, the way I giggled like a little kid. So cute !!!

SPIDERHEAD, drabbles ─── send in a thought/headcanon you have about a character and I’ll expand on it in a drabble!

catching tasm!peter staring and you and when you confront him about it he gets all flustered n shy ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

peter parker thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen so really, it’s your fault that he’s staring. he can’t help himself. he stares at you all during class, he loves the way you look today, loves your hair, your clothes, your face. he watches you take notes and then watches you some more when you ask the lecturer an intelligent question, and then he gets stuck on your lovely voice and how it sounds when you say all those big words. he wonders how it’d sound if you said his name.

it’s why he thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that very same voice calling his name as he exits the class. he stops walking and turns on his heel, half dazed. you’re walking towards him, smiling. he blinks rapidly just in case you’re a figment of his imagination and he’s hallucinating you. he’s not. you come to a stop in front of him, smiling big, your hands fiddling with the strap on your bag. you’re even prettier up close. peter didn’t think it was possible for you to get any prettier, and yet, here you are.

“hi,” you beam.

peter smiles back nervously. he drags a hand through his hair in a poor attempt to fix it. his heart is beating so hard it almost hurts. “hey, uh. hey, y/n.”

you grin at him. this is the first time you’ve ever spoken directly to each other outside of class. peter is surprised he hasn’t humiliated himself beyond repair yet.

“so, uh— gwen told me you were looking at me, for like, the entire class,” you say, a little awkward but you play it off cool, as if you haven’t just ripped away all of peter’s dignity. “care to tell me why?”

peter gapes at you. his face feels like it’s on fire. “oh.” he manages to say, absolutely horrified. “um, yeah, sorry about that …”

“no!” you’re quick to refuse his apology, still smiling like he’s not a total creep. “no, it’s okay, peter. I just wondered why.”

by the look on your face, peter thinks you know exactly why. he groans and covers his eyes with his hand. you giggle at his reaction and peter can’t help but laugh. when he uncovers his eyes you’re smiling wider than ever and looking at him very expectantly. yeah, you can see right through him. you know peter likes you. a devastating realisation, really, but it’s worse when he wonders just how long you’ve known.

“oh, come on,” peter groans, smiling now. if his secret’s been spilled he’s not gonna try to hide it anymore. “you’re really gonna make me say it?”

you grin. “well, no, but it would be nice to hear it. then I’ll have a reason to ask you out for coffee this afternoon.”

peter is pretty sure he dies on the spot.

[aureliqs]

This is just captivating. There’s just something about Remus defending y/n :3

hii what about Remus with shufflepuff! reader who's really good with animals but is made fun of by James? Sirius just playfully teases Remus about his not so secret crush but James is just outright mean to her...thx!

a/n: i hope i made james mean enough, thank you for requesting!! enjoy! ♡

pairing: remus lupin x hufflepuff! reader

“remus, isn’t that your girlfriend, over there!?” sirius jokes, grabbing remus softly by the shoulder. remus turns his head to see you out by a tree helping a small animal, he’s too far away to make out what it is. he can’t help but smile at your kindness.

“she’s not my girlfriend.” remus snips back, pushing sirius hand off his shoulder. rolling his eyes at his idiot friend. looking back to you with a new red tint added to his cheeks.

“oh yes, of course.” sirius shakes his head in mock sorrow. “so when are you going to ask her?”

before remus could tell sirius to mind his business, james scoffs. “i hope he never does.”

remus snaps his head towards james, with a scowl. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“she’s weird.” james answers, not really interested in the conversation.

remus scowl changes into a confused frown. what did that mean? you weren’t weird. different? yes. but remus liked that. you were shy, you didn’t have many friends. but, you were always kind to others. people, animals and even non-living things. you were soft spoken and so sweet. a true definition of a hufflepuff. remus always appreciated that about you.

“i think she’s sweet.” sirius helps remus out, defending you. sure sirius teased remus but, it was only because remus’ crush on you was so obvious. and he couldn’t help but tease his friend.

“she’s still crazy.” james shrugs, watching you pick up the small animal. “i mean she talks more to animals than to humans.” he waves his hand towards you, making a point.

“james-“ sirius tries to interpret, but james can’t help but provide more of his thoughts on you. “also, she has no friends.”

“yes, she does!” remus defends. as james continues to rant, remus can’t help but feel more agitated. “a total of three.” james speaks in a “duh” tone. he’s stating the facts.

“she’s shy-“ remus and sirius speak at the same time, surprised at how james is acting.

“one of them in hagrid!” james continues, raising his voice slightly more than needed. “the other two are pandora and xenophilius!” he continues on his rant. “and they’re more looney than her!”

“i’m her friend james,” remus snaps, angrily at james. his eyes now narrow and lips turned down. his body shaking from anger. “i think she’s the most loveliest thing.” remus voice is sharp, and stern as he moves from his friends. he cast james one more dirty look. “it’s a shame that you can’t see how lovely she is.” and then he walks off, joining you to help the small animal. remus would rather spend time with you, his sweet girl anyways.

[aureliqs]

This is so sweet !!!

tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?

a/n: thank you for requesting <3

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

peter silently wraps his arms around you and rest his head between the crook of your neck, giving your neck a small peck. peter always wants to kiss you, every chance he gets he takes it.

“what was that kiss for?” you giggle, as your boyfriend’s grip on you tightens, and he starts to sway you both.

“just wanted to kiss you.” he says softly, moving his head from your neck, his lips landing on the apple of your cheek.

“you always want to kiss me.” you move your head back to look at peter with a bright smile. “of course i do.” he turns you around so you could face and see him fully. you give peter a warm smile and wrap your arms around his neck. he moves in to give you more kisses, you deserve all the kisses in the world from him, in his opinion. if he could kiss you all day he would, so he kisses you any chance he can.

“peter!” you shout, laughing at the pampering he’s giving you, you think your boyfriend is overly sweet, and you love it. you love peter.

he stops and pulls from your face. he has a cheeky smile and pulls you in, hugging you tighter than before. “you’re too sweet, peter.” you tell him fondly. your hands going up to peters hair, playing with it softly, he loves when you play with his hair. it makes him melt.

“i’m too sweet?”

“yes, you practically spoil me.” you giggle out, your heart is all warm and you feel a little silly when your with peter. “well a sweet girl like you should be spoiled.” and he moves in to kiss you all over again.

[aureliqs]

Just amazing !

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part two

part one ←

summary: Your second meeting doesn’t really go as you planned, but you couldn’t complain. After all he asked you out on a date, right?

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: fluff, idiots in love, Remus is a lovesick puppy, Marlene McKinnon, cause she deserves it, talking about tough times, but nothing bad.

wc: 2,4k

Enjoy!

“So you say he’s pretty hot, huh?” Marlene looked at you with a sly grin dancing on her lips, as she spoke.

You rolled your eyes at her suggestive tone, and almost instantly, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, causing you to subconsciously look away and hide your face in the comforting warmth of your coffee, as you take a slow sip to cover your flustered expression.

“I-I do think he’s…more attractive than an average man, yeah, but it’s doesn’t change anything.” you stammer in defense. "He's Molly's teacher, for goodness sake!" You huff under your breath, taking another, nervous sip of your coffee to divert your focus from the embarrassing topic.

Marlene lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head in playful disbelief. "Oh, come on now," she teases, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips. She repositions herself to a seated position on the couch, to see you better.

You've known Marlene since you were diaper-wearing kiddos running around the playground, and she's been your rock throughout the years. No matter how tough times have been, she's always been there for you, even during your darkest days. When you got pregnant and after giving birth, she never gave up on you. You can't even count the number of times you've cried on her shoulder because life has been hard, and you've felt lost.

And moments like that reminded you of just how well she actually known you. Maybe even better than you’ve known yourself.

“ I don’t know…” you sigh, looking down at the floor to collect your thoughts. “I actually felt something, when he looked at me, but maybe it was just my imagination running, you know?” You chuckled as your hand squeezed the mug tighter. “He was just nice” you shrug. “He had to be nice, it’s his work.” You tried to convince yourself.

“But he's single, right? I mean, you're pretty as fuck and certainly not stupid, so you must have noticed that he's into you!" She raised her voice in frustration. "Why would he approach you if not because he finds you hot?”

“I don’t know if he’s single, Marlene, why would I care?” You frowned. “Besides, I’m not going to ask him that question, never.” You put the mug down on the shelf and then rubbed your face with your hands. “It’s just stupid crush.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, looking back at her.

“Ha! So it’s a crush, you said it yourself!” She pointed her finger towards your direction as a mischievous smile grew bigger on her face, causing her nose to wrinkle. “I just can’t understand the fact that you don’t want to to be dicked down by a hot teacher, I mean, you’re wasting your time, maybe someone could finally jump your bones so that y-“

"Alright, that's enough, Marlene," you replied firmly, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying your best to regain composure. “It’s just not easy for me, and you know that, I wish I couldn’t overthink every aspect of my life, it’s tiring.” You gulped.

She looked at you with a knowing expression, the kind that mixed pity and understanding. You knew that look all too well, and hated seeing it on her face. It made you feel vulnerable again.

"Please don't give me that look," you whispered under your breath, a hint of pleading in your tone.

"I’m just worried about you," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath your feet. "It's been nearly 7 years."

It’s been seven years since your last relationship. That night, when you told him about your pregnancy, should never happened. You should know better, but you were blinded by a manipulative fucker, who ran off the second he heard that you were carrying his baby. Since then it was hard for you to find someone who could understand your complicated situation, and you just stopped going to dates years ago.

You got used to the fact, that’s it was just you and Molly. And now that you had your life fixed up, why screw it all up by some dude?

"I don’t want to talk about it. " you backed away with to the hallway to grab your car keys “I have to be in Molly’s school in fifteen minutes.”

She rose from her seat on the couch and gracefully glided across the room to the corridor, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. As she approached, she leaned against the door frame and gazed at you quietly, her eyes searching your face.

“Just think about it, that’s all I ask.”

You sat down to pull on your boots, your gaze drifting towards her. She was staring at you intently, her determination clearly etched on her face. Her unwavering, steely gaze held a familiar stubborn resolve. You’ve seen it countless times before.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it, but i can’t promise anything. " you finally relented, holding up your hands in defeat. Her eyes widened, and a squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she jumped up and down in front of you like an elated child. You couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

It won’t hurt to try, right?

Despite his natural talent for public speaking, which was crucial given his job working as a teacher, he found it difficult to concentrate his mind on anything today.

It wasn’t because he didn’t slept well, or his mood was worse than usual, it was because of you. You couldn’t leave his thoughts since he saw you for the first time in the hallway. That sweet smile adorned on your face when you spoked to your daughter, and the look you gave him, when you found his eyes for the first time. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The meeting was supposed to be chill, just some parents chatting about their kids, wanting to know their recent progress, just like every month. But things got way more complicated when you showed up. He must have been seriously sick to hallucinate the room lighting up when you walked in. Clearly, your mere presence was playing tricks on his overtired brain. He felt like a mad person.

“Mr. Lupin?” An irritated voice snatched him away from his mind. He quickly moved his gaze to the woman speaking to him. She was standing there with her arms tucked into her coat.

“Yes, what was the question again?” He raised the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I just asked about the school trip.” She huffed, clearly impatient.

Remus spoke, twirling a pencil in his hand to quell his anxiousness. "Right, yes. We plan on taking kids to the ranch next week, and the tickets are free, so we just need your permission for this one," he managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nerves. “There will be a list on my desk, you can sign up, or not, and that’ll be all for today. I think we managed to raise all the issues earlier.” He reached for a piece of paper from his briefcase and placed it on the desk. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t help but take a glance at you again.

You were chatting quietly with some parents in the back. He couldn’t help but feel being pulled back again to his trance. Maybe he shouldn’t thought about you that much? What if you already had someone else waiting for you at home? If not, he wanted so badly to know you better. You were pulling him towards like a fucking magnet.

After a while, when everyone began to gather around the desk to sign the list, you stayed behind, in no rush to join them. Finally when you stood up and made your way to the desk he felt his heart speeding up. Leaning over, you picked up a pen before quickly scribbling your signature next to Molly's name. You were closer than ever, and he could feel your perfume from such close distance. They were sweet. A hint of vanilla mixing with orange blossom and rose. The strands of your hair had escaped from behind your ears, cascading like a waterfall of silk down your face. They framed you, gently brushing against your skin as they fell.

He wanted you so bad it hurts his insides.

Remus watched you for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

As you straightened up, your gaze landed on his, and for a split second, you both locked eyes. There was a brief moment of connection, a fleeting glance that seemed to hold a thousands of unspoken words.

Your voice whispered through the empty space, the soft sound catching his ear and causing him to startle momentarily. "Molly said that they were painting pictures today," you murmured, your smile gentle as your gaze drifted out the window.

"Yeah..." Remus nodded casually as he leaned back, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the chair. He pushed back his soft strands of hair with hand, when they’re got dangerously close to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a way to get them to calm down for a bit.” He chuckled, his eyes seeking yours. “But it turned out into pure, colourful chaos.” He pushed himself up, closing the distance between you to stand by your side. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans.

He wore them again, but today his sweater was sage green,and his wrist was adorned by a brown leather-watch on his wrist, and he even got boots to match.

He stole a glance through the window, his eyes falling upon you as you gazed at the scene. The empty playground outside was being caressed by soft wind, golden leaves carried away in a gentle dance around the area.

“It must’ve be-“

“Actually I-“

You both chuckled at the same time, gazes meeting and in an instant, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was that gleam in his eyes, that captivated you so much.

“Go on.” you said gently, encouraging him to continue. Your voice was soft and quiet, the words barely above a whisper. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a faint blush stained your cheeks.

He looked back at the window to collect his thoughts.

He chuckled softly, "I just never introduced myself properly, which is kind of rude, to be honest." You sensed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I’m Remus.”

He held out his hand, and as yours met his much bigger palm, that familiar tingling sensation shot through you again, just like when you bumped into each other in the hallway.

His hands were warm, but in that moment, they seemed almost scalding. Your own skin tingled under his touch, the heat from his fingers sending ripples of sensation radiating through you. As he held your hand, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference between your own cool touch and the comforting warmth of his palm.

"Y/n." you replied gently, your voice was barely a whisper not wanting to break the spell of the moment as you held onto his hand, or maybe he held onto yours, you couldn’t tell.

Your name slipped from his tongue like a cloud on a rainy day, soft and soothing, yet with a gentle rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

A moment passed, and as he released your hand, and immediately a feelings of emptiness washed over you.

“Well, it’s nice to finally know your name, Remus.” You smiled when small blush appeared on his cheeks.

His name sounded different on your tongue as if it had been destined to be spoken by you. Each syllable rolled off your lips effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. He found himself hanging on every sound, relishing the sound of his name in your voice.

"So...," he began, pausing to clear his throat nervously. His voice dropped as he continued, "Are you free this Friday?" He looked down to observe your reaction, his lowered gaze catching the hint of amusement on your face.

just think about it, that’s all I ask.

When you shifted to face him directly, you were startled by the sheer height difference between the two of you. He seemed to loom over you, his tall stature making you feel practically tiny in comparison. You hadn't noticed just how much taller he was until that moment. You couldn't speak for a second, overwhelmed by a potent mix of shock and panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your body on edge as you struggled to find the right words. Time seemed to freeze, your thoughts a whirl of unease and surprise as you stood before him, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yes," you managed to say, despite the mixture of surprise and anxiousness coursing through you. "I am free this Friday." A small, shaky breath escaped your lungs. The words came out softly, almost a whisper, but they were clear enough.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at your answer, the tension in his frame releasing some of its tight coil. A small, anxious chuckle escaped him as he continued. "Great, because there's this small café in town, and they have the best coffee around. Only if you're up for it, of course," he added hastily, his nervousness betrayed by the slight waver in his voice.

“I would love to, Remus.” Your voice soft as you spoke, a shy smile playing on your lips.

God, you said his name again, he could die as a happy man now.

The school bell rang abruptly, causing you both to laugh in amusement at its timing. It seemed like the bell had a knack for knowing when to chime in, always breaking the moment between you with perfect timing.

And you couldn't have been more happier when, amidst the chaos of collecting his things and saying goodbyes, he asked for your number. You gave it to him with a fucking smile on your face, because you didn’t care. Seeing him today had reassured you that even if things won’t work out between the two of you, you'd still have your normal, happy life, so it wouldn't hurt too much. And plus, you really wanted to. He was cute even when he stammered for no reason.

It was official, you had a date with a hot teacher.

a/n: I really love the idea that this two idiots are just so smitten with each other, that they can’t speak properly, but I promise, it won’t last for too long…hehe. Also, if you want me to tag you in my tag list, just dm me :)

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers

[aureliqs]

So sweet and heartwarming. I love this !

✧˖°. Down Bad ✧˖°.

a/n: Being inspired by my own post about primary school teacher!remus lupin I decided to write something small (possible series of drabbles in the future maybe, who knows?) just to warm up a bit. I changed a few things on the way, so just enjoy! Im not very proud about this one, but im gonna post it anyway ;p Reposts and comments are always welcome!

Also, English is not my first language, and it's kinda obvious hehe

summary: One day, it hits him like a ton of bricks - he had a massive crush on a new teacher, and it's you.

tw: none, just fluff, Remus is a lovesick puppy

pairing: teacher!remus lupin x teacher f!reader

wc: 502

Ever since you’ve started working as a new teacher, Remus couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

It was hard not to, actually. Your class was across his own, and your door were always opened, so he could hear your group having their best time with you.

You were truly amazing. He could see it in the way that you were taking care of those kids, almost as if all of them were your own. And it amazed him. That affectionate gleam in your eyes, when you crouch down to a little girl, who ran towards you while being in the playground, tears streaming down her cheeks for an unknown reason. 

He could see from the window of his own class how you comforted her, how gentle you were with her. And it just moved something in him. 

Remus's fingers dug into the stress ball he held in his hand, the soft material crunched under his grip as he squeezed it tighter. His other hand supported his chin, a pensive expression on his face as he gazed out the window.

He was so fucked up right now. 

And when he was just about to go back to grading tests, his heart skipped a beat when you stood up and looked in his direction. Out of all the windows facing the playground, your eyes somehow found his immediately. It was as if you had a sixth sense of knowing exactly where he was.

Remus felt a wave of panic rise within him, his heart pounding in his chest. He was screwed, because now that you were looking at him, there was nowhere to hide. The connection between your eyes felt almost magnetic, pulling him closer against his better judgment.

And the moment, when you softly waved at him and gave him a sweet smile, your cheeks all flushed from the cold autumn wind, he felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

He managed to collect himself enough to wave back, his heart still pounding in his chest. When his hand moved back and forth, signaling a greeting, he couldn't help but notice how awkward it must look, and that just made him blush even more. 

But he didn't care, because the fact that you took the time to wave at him, to acknowledge his presence, was enough to send his mind spiraling.

And as the autumn wind picked up and swept through the playground, Remus couldn't help but notice how your hair escaped the confines of your scarf. The tendrils of your hair danced freely in the air, each individual strand twirling and fluttering with a life of its own.

It was a small, simple moment, but it captivated his attention in a profound way. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you. That moment, was the point when he knew he was truly lost.

And it made him realize how deeply smitten he was with you, and that he had to do something about it, before it’ll be too late.

[aureliqs]

I love this ! It’s amazing <3

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part one

part two ←

summary: Running into your new daughter’s teacher in the school hallway was a real surprise, and you can't help but feel certain feelings towards him. It’s a good thing, that you two seem to feel the same way about your little meeting.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: Reader’s daughter has her own name (Molly), fluff

wc:1,2k

a/n: I don’t know if it’ll be a series, but seeing how my previous post blewed up, it gave me motivation to finish this small shot.

Reblogs and comments are always welcome!

Enjoy!

„There will be a new teacher in school, mommy and he’s going to replace Mrs. Smith!” Molly told you one day when you were picking her up from school. Her little tiny hand swayed in yours as you made your way through the crowded hallway.

You smiled, sensing excitement in her voice. She always loved to meet new people. It was something she inherited certainly not from you.

„Oh, yeah, I remember. are you excited, bug?” You squeezed her hand affectionately, pushing the exit door with your other hand. The gentle wind blew against your face as you fished out the car keys from your trench coat.

„Yeah!” She nodded eagerly „I will miss Mrs. Smith tho, she was my favourite” her voice suddenly saddened. You smiled down at her, feeling a tug at your heart. Molly's attachment to her teacher was something that you were well aware of. She was just great with kids, always happy to see them. It was sad that she retired so soon.

“I know,” you replied softly as you unlocked the car and helped Molly into the backseat. “You'll miss her, but it's okay to feel that way.” You buckled her seat and reached with your hand to gently caress her little cheekbone. “I think that the new teacher will be super cool too.” You gave her forehead little kiss, and she giggled when your lips touched her face.

You walked around to the driver's side, settling into your seat and starting the car. The heater kicked in, chasing away the chill of the cool autumn afternoon. You took off your leather gloves to rub your hands together, seeking some warmth.

“What do you hope your new teacher will be like?” You spoke again after a moment of silence.

Molly pondered this for a moment, her tiny brow furrowed in thought. “I hope he’s nice like Mrs. Smith.” She said finally. “And funny. And smart.” She started counting on her fingers.

You chuckled softly, pulling out of the parking spot and making your way down the street. “Yeah, these are some good traits.” you agreed.

Molly continued to chatter away in the backseat, her voice still full of excitement. "What do you think he will look like, mommy?" she asked, her head popping up from the backseat.

You couldn't help but smile. Clearly, she was getting excited about the new situation. "Well, I can't say for sure, honey. We'll have to wait and find out." You gave her another smile from the rear view.

And he turned out great. Even better than you thought he would. A week later, when you were waiting for her in the school hallway, you watched in anticipation as the classroom door opened, and Molly came running out with a huge grin plastered on her face. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement as she made her way to you. As she got closer, you could see that her little cheeks were flushed pink, and her breathing was a bit ragged with the exertion of her run. When she finally reached you, she wrapped her tiny arms around your legs in a tight hug.

"Mom! You won't believe how great Mr. Lupin is!” she exclaimed, looking up at you with big, shining eyes. Her little hand found yours, and squeezed, while jumping around.

The hallway became full within a seconds, creating a chaotic scene, filled with bustling parents and swarms of excited children hurrying towards the school entrance.

You turned around, still holding Molly's hand, when the sound of the door closing behind you caught your attention. As you glanced over, you saw someone who you assumed was Mr. Lupin standing there, locking up the classroom. His eyes suddenly met yours and your breath hitched. There was an intensity in his gaze that drew you in, making you feel a strange pull.

Before you could react further, Molly's voice shattered the moment. "Mom, that's him!" she exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. "That's Mr. Lupin!"

He looked down at Molly, a smile lighting up his face as he recognized her. "Ah, if it isn't our little chatterbox," he said, his voice warm and friendly, and as he took step closer, you could now see him better.

"You even got a sticker, did you show your mommy?" He pointed to her jean jacket, before his eyes slowly traveled up to you, meeting your gaze once again.

And you felt a strange, almost electric connection. It was as if a thousand tiny lightning bolts had passed through your body in that moment, leaving you feeling both startled and yet strangely drawn to him. He was a handsome man, you couldn’t deny it even if you wanted. His hair was slightly messy, falling in soft, brown locks across his forehead. Those intense chocolate eyes framed by thick eyelashes stared right into yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the sharp, yet boyish, cut of his jaw. Even his outfit, a simple blue sweater and jeans, seemed to look better on him than on anyone else.

The strange connection between you and him was snapped out of by Molly, who with all the enthusiasm a child can have, showed off a sticker that was proudly attached to her denim jacket. The words "Rock Star" were written on it, and she looked up at you with a huge smile on her face, clearly proud of her accomplishment.

The atmosphere felt charged, filled with a magnetic energy, but you managed to collect yourself, plastering a smile on your face as you responded to her.

"That is indeed very cool, sweetheart," you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m sorry.” You chuckled looking back at him. “She can be a lot on a daily basis. I can’t imagine a classroom full of little kids like her.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "It's alright. To be honest, she's an absolute angel compared to the others, but don’t tell them that.” He winked at you, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“That’s good to hear then.” You offered him a slight smile as you held Molly close, sensing that she was growing weary and more clingy. She always become like that when she was tired. A school bell saved you from the awkwardness between two of you, because when it ranged, Mr. Lupin gave you an apologetic smile, glancing up at the source of the noise.

As the hallway cleared out, leaving behind only two of you, he broke the silence with a gentle cough, his voice a soft whisper. "Duty calls," he said, a hint of regret in his tone. "I must prepare for my next class," he continued, his smile tinged with a hint of sheepishness. "And I'd hate to keep you any longer."

She clearly knew the bell was an excuse for him to get away from the slight tension that had hung in the air between you two, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that your conversation was being cut short.

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. "Yeah, I'd better get going as well," you said as you held onto Molly's shoulder, feeling her weight leaning into you due to her increasing tiredness. "I need to feed this gremlin before she falls asleep on me." You ruffled her blonde hair.

He smiled warmly, casting a glance down at Molly who was clinging to you. "Yeah, I can see," he said, his voice soft and pleasant. "It was nice to meet you. By the way, don't forget to attend the class meeting this week!”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” You giggled nervously. “I’ll be there.”

He gave you a final nod, taking another step away. Then, with a small wave, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing from sight as he rounded the corner.

And you saw that before he disappeared from the view, how he casted one final glance over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours. A subtle, gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took in the sight of you and Molly last time.

You let out a sigh, feeling the tension finally starting to melt away from your shoulders. It took you a few moments to calm down and regain your composure, but when you were back in the game mentally, you felt that warm blush still coloring your cheeks.

What a strange conversation.

“I told you, he’s awesome” Molly whispered, looking up at you, with her big, but tired eyes, while you still couldn’t move your legs from a slight shock.

Oh, you were so fucked.

[aureliqs]

Burn-Out

Pairing : Remus Lupin x f!Reader

fluff, comfort, some angst I suppose

Warnings : Burn-Out, depressive episode, anxiety, feelings of emptiness etc. Heavy topic

I want to help, to comfort and give hope to everyone who sadly had to experience (still is experiencing ) this like me <3

Content: Your boyfriend Remus decides to say something about the state you’ve been living in, as he is extremely worried about you.

Authors note: This one is a comfort story based on my own experiences, so you might experience burn out or any other mental health struggles very differently. Your experiences are valid. You deserve to rest and heal. Take breaks. Nothing is as important as your health and happiness! I know it’s hard, but it’s worth it <3 (I’m still learning that too :3)

The finals are killing you. There is no other way to describe it. No time to waste. You’ve got a study plan to use your time efficiently, and if you stick to it you might even get ahead of it too. Everything’s going according to plan. Still, you don’t really feel anything anymore. You don’t think you even really have time to feel. You’re always up in your head thinking about what to do next. Every point crossed from your to do list gives you this rush of adrenaline, only to instantly feel empty after ready to chase the next high.

Reading a romance book before bed, while giggling and slightly swinging your feet happend less and less. Even if you wanted to, there’s just no energy left at the end of the day, or any time of the day if you were honest. Besides, what’s the point of reading anything like that. It’s not really useful in any way. Entertainment isn’t helping you with the finals.

Yeah, it’s just not “useful”

That has become your main excuse if you were honest deep deep down, but you aren’t. How could you ever be? There is just no time. If it isn’t potions, it’s charm. If it isn’t charms then it’s transfiguration. There is always something.

Something to avoid thinking. Now it’s just doing. Doing what you’re supposed to do.

Piece by piece it chipped away your personality. At first it wasn’t as apparent. No one noticed, especially not you. Gradually though, you’ve become an empty shell of the person you used to be. There’s no use in these things, like reading, drawing or just having a chat with people.

Even if you wanted to chat with others, you didn’t have a lot of energy. Can’t say you haven’t tried for their sake, to not disappoint or worry anyone. Still, you’re just different.

Not yourself.

But also not anyone else.

You just became empty.

You weren’t always… but you are now.

Your friends stopped asking you to hang out, as you’ve always declined anyways. They just assume your always to busy for them. The marauders also stopped chatting up with you from time to time, since you were always liked up in homework, and no one dared to disturb you. Especially since you got very snappy most of the time.

Your boyfriend Remus was the first one to grow really worried though. Your date rate dropped slowly but surely down. The random chats about each other’s life’s declined as well. Everything is just so serious now. What hurt Remus the most though was that you stopped laughing. By Godric you even stopped smiling. It was Remus most favourite thing in the world. Seeing you happy. It just stopped. You just stopped being you.

Remus and you studied together in the library a lot. You still do that now, but even that changed. It’s barely chatting now, as you’re always so sunken into the topic you’re studying. You barely listen, and give shorter responses than ever before. After studying, you usually rush to do the next thing on your to do list.

Remus misses you.

Remus misses the actual you.

Once again, Remus and you were piled up with books in the library late at night. You were all alone, as most people would rather sleep this late. Not you, you were focused on your goals, and Remus tried supporting you. As you were scribbling down on your paper, lost in thought, Remus finally had it. He couldn’t bear it anymore. Missing you is one thing, but seeing you this miserable was another. Another thing he’s not able to tolerate.

“Y/n?” He muttered. He looked to his left, where you set next to him still lost in thought.

“Y/n?” Remus repeated. You came to your senses and looked at him, fairly confused.

“Yeah, what is it Rem?” You looked blank, waiting for a response.

Remus looked deeply into your eyes. “I am really worried about you y/n. You’re always stressed. You don’t enjoy anything anymore. You’re always tired. There’s no happiness left in you.”

This hit you like a train. You just thought to yourself after the finals everything will be alright. This is just a phase. Now, it hit you. You’re not okay. You look at Remus, frozen in anxiety. You don’t know what to do, or even say. You’re stuck in freeze.

Remus goes on “please, we can talk about everything. I can help you. I miss you so much. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You don’t laugh, by Godric you don’t even smile anymore. I’m just so worried.” The last sentence came out all wobbly, like he was choking back tears himself.

That made you realise how much your behaviours where not just impacting you, but also him and likewise your friends. Everything that made you happy you’ve chipped away yourself. It was all in favour of a “greater good”, your achievements. But was it really for the greater good? Or did you just sacrifice yourself?

Tears starting to form in your eyes. The growing feeling of sadness in your chest was growing heavy. So, so heavy. Everything you’ve repressed lately boiled up all at once. You never took time to look at your feelings once, since you could always distract yourself with more things to do. It’s like a rabbit hole. You go deeper and deeper, until you realise how incredibly deep you actually are.

Tears started streaming down your face.

You’ve felt them running down your cheeks, to the point where they even dropped down your chin and onto your clothes.

Remus eyes widened in shock. To him this reaction made it all the more serious. You were suffering silently. Drowning in this ongoing state of stress. Working day and night to keep down the pain you were feeling behind your achievements.

Remus put his arm around you, and pulled you in close. His other hand found its way behind your hand, gently pulling you into his chest.

As more tears streamed down your face, all you could produce was a wobbly” I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry…”

“Don’t worry… you’re not alone. I should have said something earlier.” Remus stroked over your back, while giving you a kiss on your head. Regrets filled Remus heads, about how far he let you go down this hole. You just can’t look into someone’s head.

“I’ve been so anxious about the finals. I thought if I do enough I can make it.” You continued to sob.

“I understand, I really do y/n. You’re not alone”

“I just feel like I need to do all of this. If I don’t, I will fail.”

“Y/n..” Remus looked deeply into your eyes. He has the most compassionate eyes you’ve ever seen. “You’re more than what you achieve. People love you for who you are. The way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you are”

Remus always had a way with words. What he said felt like it reached the depths of your heart.

“We’ve been missing you. I’ve been missing you.”

“Thank you Remus. I’ve been missing you too” you replied while a tear was rolling down your cheek.

“I love you”

You felt something. Love. Love for your boyfriend who tried to hard to help you.

“I love you too”

You forgot how it is to feel. You forgot to just be, and not plan every next thing to do. You’ve missed to live in the here and now with Remus.

“I promise I won’t let you alone with this.”

“It’s just so hard. How to I even begin to…to be less stressed.” Your voice was still shivering. You felt so fragile.

“I’m not exactly sure either, but we’ll figure it out on the way” Remus grinned at you. This smile could melt the entire North Pole, but right now it just melts your heart.

You just nodded, still processing everything that just happened.

“For starters, let’s go to sleep. No ones studying besides us right now, and to be fair we seem quite nuts to do so”, Remus said with a chuckle.

You’ve laughed. You’ve laughed again. His sarcastic remarks were always the best. Maybe you didn’t loose yourself after all.

“You’re very much right” you gave back with a slight smile.

Remus saw you smiling again. He couldn’t contain his excitement.

“See y/n, you’re smiling again”. His sweet grin broadened. “ I know we can fix this together.”

Remus kissed you on the cheek. After that, you’ve started packing up your things to go back ti your dorms.

As you are walking down the halls, you decide to ask Remus something. “Can I sleep at your dorm tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

Remus was more than happy to do so, especially since the lack of couple time was eating him alive. “Of course honey, but I warn you. James, Sirius and Peter haven’t cleaned up the room. To be fair, I haven’t really either”

You just laughed.

“I really don’t mind. I didn’t expect anything else Rem.”

You’ve both got ready, and laid down in Remus’ bed. All the other marauders were deep asleep, and to be fair very heavy sleepers. James only rolled around once, when you kicked a lamp on the floor, which gave Remus a heart attack.

As you looked at Remus in the darkness of the dorm room, you could only feel so thankful to have him in his life. Finally, you felt some of your feelings return. It’s still a long way to go but you were sure with Remus by your side, you’ll make it.

You kissed Remus, and just started at him for a second longer.

“Remus, I love you”

“I love you too, y/n”. Good night”

“Good night”

A yawn creeps it”s way up to you. After that you cuddle up to Remus. You drift away in mere minutes, and finally get the rest you deserve

Once again, take care of yourself. Take breaks. You deserve to rest <3

I hope you all enjoyed this. Leave me other writing prompts if you want to <3

[aureliqs]

Oxygen is overrated anyways <3

REMUS LUPIN AS I LIVE AND BREATHE im not fucking breathing

[aureliqs]

rip remus lupin you would’ve loved ibuprofen